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

Day 7: Ancona to Salerno

 Audrey and I are always passively jealous of 'breakfast eaters'- you know, those people who cheerfully wake up at 6am to do a session of yoga and a run before making their own granola and still getting into the office first (Ruth Cole/ Ashley Johnson, I'm looking at you).

So when we both randomly woke onboard the ferry at 6am, we scrambled up to the top to see the sun rise over the sea, enjoying the smug feeling of being the only ones up and experiencing breakfast-eater status, while everyone else slept. We then went hunted through several decks and stepped over many snoozing travellers to find where actual breakfast was being served.

Docked in Ancona

Always the most important meal of the day as far as I'm concerned - I piled up a bowl of cereal, several pieces of toast and spreads, some orange juice, a cup of tea, half the platter of cold meats and cheeses, and scooped up a boiled egg for good measure. Audrey was a little more restrained, a cup of tea with toast and jam apparently sufficed. Apparently we still hadn't gotten up early enough though so I didn't quite manage to get it all down before the ferry pulled into dock. We pieced together some ham and cheese sangas from the leftovers and I carefully tucked the egg into a pocket for later. Yum.We raced back to our room to shove everything in our bags and charge off into the second country of our trip - ITALY.

Unfortunately not our hire car...

Once in Ancona port, we wandered around to every bus station looking for our connection to the airport, where we could collect our car. Fortunately Audrey dug up some long-lost Italian skills and we got directions - straight back to the first one we had tried. We hopped on, bought our biglietti (which no one checked) and 15 minutes later arrived at the train station to get our next bus... just to see it pulling out in front of us. D'oh!

The next bus wasn't for another hour. Audrey went inside to check alternatives, but the only other option was a train which didn't come until lunchtime. Useless. In any case, I thought it would be an opportune moment to enjoy a slightly smushed boiled egg. Apparently there is now a Japanese tourist running around Italy somewhere with a picture of me blissfully enjoying that egg. Audrey discreetly chose a seat a few yards away.

VW Up! - We christened him Oopi...

True to schedule, our bus arrived an hour later, and we got out at a pokey little airport to collect our mighty steed and a quick cappuccino. Apart from a few cautionary lane reminders, and some accidental deployment of windscreen wipers at the first few roundabouts, I quickly got the hang of driving on the wrong side. We were off to Salerno.

I should mention at this point that the tightarse in me had decided it would be much better to go for a downloaded iPad nav program instead of a proper GPS (at 12 Euros a day ... yeah right!). It's iffy at best, and we ended up in some interesting places, including a pre-medieval town in the hills called Campolattare (about 10 miles past our intended turn off), which we ended up exploring on foot. We heard a tiny man singing a gorgeous operetta in his living room, Audrey fed a few stray cats and bought some surprisingly tasty potato chips before returning to our trek.

We finally arrived in Salerno about 12 hours after disembarking in Ancona, the trusty navagatrix having been
generally quite reliable. We plugged in the address of our new hosts, and things started well as it confidently instructed us through numerous dodgy intersections. It took us right into the heart of the city, and it was our first real encounter of Italian driving 'rules' - basically if the car fits, you can go there. Judging by the scrapes and busted lights on pretty much every vehicle, Italians might not have the best spacial comprehension.

And when I say the heart of the city, I mean like the left atrium of the heart of the city. We ended up and down alleys where we had to flip in both side mirrors and edge along in first gear while the pedestrians decided whether to have another lick of the gelato before getting out of the way.  We squeezed our little VW past old men playing chess and ladies gossiping over limoncello, they all regarded us with mild indifference as we crawled through the sidewalks, I have no idea how we got around half those corners. Turning around was not an option, so we ploughed on through. A distinct burst of excitement when we spotted another car doing the same thing. Hardened local or another lost tourist, didn't matter.

Then, in the middle of an alley, between a sidewalk cafe and a stall selling knock-off handbags, our little navagatory assistant loudly and proudly announced "You have reached your destination"! We both just looked at each other and laughed. Where to now?!

Fonzies = Twisties ?!

At each corner we gambled on left or right, hoping it was a throughway. Finally we came to a small square with a few other parked cars and squeezed in next to the tables of the pizzeria. While fending off the proprietor with the internationally recognised "just one moment" index-finger raised in the air, we put through a rescue call to our host Mimma who quickly dispatched her husband Nunzio to assist.

About 5 minutes later, he arrived and looked suitably impressed and surprised we had managed to find our way to the inner-sanctum of Salerno. He also informed us that only locals are allowed in and there is a hefty fine for being where we were! We quickly took our bags from the car, hefted them to our new lodgings then I returned with Nunzio to park it securely a short drive away.  Fortunately it was neither ticketed nor towed by the time we came back.


Audrey stayed and chatted with Mimma and their three year old son while I moved the car. Young Francesco apparently did his part to keep her on track, yelling 'NO INGLESE' and stamping his feet if she slipped into English. Good thing I wasn't sticking around for a chinwag, little brat would have had pretty sore feet by the time I was done. No parlo Italiano.

Yum Yum Octopus Bum

The house was beautiful and ancient, and our room was filled with original art and full length French windows. Mimma and Nunzio seemed a bit cool and distant, so we went out for some pasta and walked the promenade by the water. It was blues night at The Kant, a classy establishment if I ever saw one, and the strains of Sweet Home Alabama just barely drowned out by the delightful symphony of car horns.

Exhausted after a long day, we arrived back at the apartment and retreated to our room. Unfortunately no air-conditioning and no fan meant our only means of (limited) ventilation was to leave the window open. It would seem that this was an invitation for all blind drunk Salernoans to gather under our window to sing and fight. As I gazed out and around through the window I noticed directly four-floors below us a sidewalk cafe and a stall selling knockoff handbags. Touche, iNav ... touche.

Tomorrow ... the Amalfi coast!

Day 6: Rakovica to Zadar

Sorry we haven't posted for a few days, internet connectivity has been a bit of an issue!! Rather than skip ahead, I'm writing this as we race down the autostrada to Florence More about that later. For the purposes of this entry, we're back at Marijana's charming B&B in Rakovica, Croatia.

I awoke to a grinning Matt, who happily told me that our Aussie house now has a tenant until December!! Yay for more icecream money. Less excited about the prospect of living out of suitcase from August until December 2013, but so worth it. Huge thanks to Matt's fam (Des, Loretta, Dan) for all their help getting the place ready (since we haven't even seen it yet!!) We thought it would be good fun to buy a flat on the other side of the world without ever setting foot in it. As you do. Anyway.

Quick brekkie at Marijana's, backpacks on, and strolling down the tiny lane to the rumored bus stop, which we're told is the garage with two doors. Oh ok. We find said garage, 10 minutes early, and proceed to wave frantically at every passing large motor vehicle for the next 45 minutes. By this point, we have drawn a bit of a fanbase from the few patrons of a little cafe next door. Matt gives up and pulls out his phone to call Marijana, just as -typical- the bus rolls up, we jump in, and we're on our way back to Zadar.

Matt sits with his face pressed to the window admiring the scenery which he slept through on the way out. Dark storm clouds roll in, and lightning and thunder threaten, but not before we make a pitstop at a road-side cafe which just so happens to have a couple of pet bears out the back!


The pervs and smokers (or pedos and weed-os as Matt is now calling them) are still out in full force and we barrel through them and out into tumultuous downpour of rain to wait for the bus. The bus shelter helpfully has a giant hole in the roof, so we get lightly drenched. Also, there's a huge puddle we haven't spotted which a truck drives straight through, so we get heavily drenched. The rain stops around about the time Matt remembers his backpack has a rain cover he can pull out and over it. He curses the spiteful rain and proceeds to leave the cover on the rest of the day anyway.

 

The skies cleared during the course of the 15-minute bus ride to the old town, so we bought a couple of giant sladoleds and our fave grapefruit juice/ beer, and settled in on a beach bench for the afternoon to wait for our night ferry to Italia. We ended up dozing on the pier with our backpacks before using the last of our kuna (literally) to scrape together enough change for a chicken salad and a bottle of water to share for yet another glamorous sunset dinner on the promenade.


We queued up for the ferry, only to be told at the entrance/customs gate that we needed a boarding pass, we only had reservation papers. Panic! Fortunately those can easily be acquired by crossing the street to the small Jadrolinija (ferry company) office. We receive boarding passes in exchange for our reservation papers and a quick flash of our passports. Back to the customs gate, still fortunately with an hour to spare, where we each add to our collection of passport stamps before we finally board the ferry.

The reception office on board hands us a few vouchers for breakfast and directs us to our palatial suite. We dump our bags, and set off to explore the rest of our giant floating home.  We race for the top deck like a couple of excited school kids - I won, but Matt says he let me ... pfffft. The ferry, as it turns out, is anchored to the pier with several giant ropes. They are as thick as a man's arm and fastened to holds along the length of the ship. It transpires that one man's job is apparently to wait on moped for some unseen signal, then dash through unlooping them all as quickly as possible.

Our guy apparently didn't feel like unlooping the last one before speeding off on his moped. We watched in surprise and with some alarm as we slowly pulled away from the moorings and the rope grew tighter. Fortunately one of the numerous waving bystanders decided to take action, and casually stepped in to unhook the million ton ship just in time. Then he sauntered back to his family, shrugged at them, and turned once more to wave at the ship. True.


After exploring the rest of our ferry (highlight: flashing, empty dancefloor approx 6ft wide) and observing the various creative sleeping places/positions of the more regular travellers, we retired for the night. Early start tomorrow, we are scheduled to dock and disembark in Ancona at 7am.

 

Still Alive!

Two days without internet connectivity - we survived ... just.
In Massa Lubrense now, and day trip to Capri tomorrow. Will post some more stories soon. Our current host - what a doozy!

Day 5: Plitvice Lakes National Park

Today was a day-trip from Rakovica; we took a 20 minute bus ride down the road to Plitvice Lakes National Park. There really isn't much we can say about this place that pictures couldn't do better, and even they don't come close to doing it justice.

Highly recommended to all, and for those who do make the adventure out here we have a few tips:
- Definitely go early. We arrived about 8am and the trails were pretty much clear for most of our day. Looking back onto some of them later in the day we could see hordes of people, and your yearning to overtake grandma hobblepants could cause you to miss a stunning sight. Just get out of bed and get there!
- Wear some sturdy shoes, anything with grip is good. Thongs bad. A lot of the paths are constructed from logs over rushing water.
- Try the strudel. But not the mass-produced stuff in the main cafe, get it from the old bird with a stall across from the exit gate.
- Finally: Any detours you see, take them. Some of our best pictures came from off the main tracks.

This monster greets you as you first walk through the gates.

The first of our many detours...

This was also a detour. Worth the 10 minute walk!

The lakes had the clearest water we've ever seen. This fish was 12 feet deep.

We made it to the top :)

 

Total distance walked: 11.5km

Total time taken: 4h 35m

Pictures taken: 167

Sladoled consumed: Only one :(

That's all folks. Tomorrow we return to Zadar before catching the overnight ferry to Ancona.