Back in Roma and reunited with my parents! Bridget and I flew back to Rome today from Mykonos, and now I understand why the rich and famous take helicopters. With feral cats in the airport chairs, chip crumbs all over the floors, and gum sitting in Bridget’s emergency handbook, the Mykonos airport was not the cleanest, but I guess that made it slightly easier to leave. Returning to Rome made me realize how much I missed Italia. The charm of the restaurants along with the locals constant use of Prego, whether they’re saying welcome, please, excuse me, or no problem, was enough to make me happy to return.
My parents and I spent our evening being touristy in Rome as we went to the Trevi Fountain and Spanish steps for both of our second times. We had a nice dinner at a restaurant called Fashion It, near the Spanish steps and caught up on the past month, or at least what had happened since our last FaceTime call.
The next morning we made our way to another destination that’s been on my bucket list for awhile, Positano on the Amalfi Coast. After just an hour train ride, we arrived in Napoli, also known as Naples, and got an hour and half car ride to Positano. The driver/tour guide was extremely talkative and even gave us an Italian lesson along the way. As it turns out, Buongiorno is used until about 2 p.m., when people switch over to Buonasera, which is used all through the evening. Apparently Buonanotte is more commonly used with close friends. Useful information for when you’re trying to blend in and the American sign stamped across your forehead isn’t giving away your nationality.
Along with this quick Italian lesson, the driver, Tony, pointed out Mount Vesuvius, stopped at Sorrento so that I could get out of the car and look out at the scenic overlook, and pointed out Amalfi, the Isle of Capri, and Salerno, as we continued down the Amalfi Coast to Positano. As we made it closer to Positano, the roads became increasingly windy. I began to shutter as people on scooters would whip by the car as we drove along the elevated cliff. Tony made hairpin turns as the roads climbed up the mountains, eventually bringing us to the hotel.
Positano is filled with homes and shops that are all embedded into the large mountain that you’ve probably seen in pictures or on postcards. At the bottom of the mountain is the main beach called, Spiaggia Grande, connected to Fornillo beach, which sits beside it. Our hotel has a beautiful view of the Tyrrhenian Sea and overlooks the colored homes that are planted into the overwhelming mountain. With great views comes a cost. It’s about 400 steps to get to the beach, which might not be the worst thing as I’m back in the world of pizza and pasta. So, hopefully next time I write, I’ll be 800 steps fitter, rather than simply 800 meals fuller.
*Posted later with WiFi*