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Since "Ciao" means both hello and goodbye (sort of like "aloha"), today we say "Ciao! Roma" and "Ciao! Amalfi Coast".
We taxi to Rome's enormous Termini train station (with a driver whose short-term memory seems in tact) and catch our high-speed train down to Salerno. The station is full of people and FULL OF SMOKE. Have we not yet discussed the cigarette smoking here? Ok, my darlings, here it is…EVERYBODY smokes here. A lot. My eyes burn and I feel a little nauseous as the station fills with people who know they will not be able to smoke when they board their train, so they are dosing up now. We find our train on the big marquee but it doesn't list the platform yet. Apparently they don't post that until 15-20 minutes before departure, leaving the crowd staring up at the board for a long while until….…BAM! The platform number is posted and everybody makes a mad dash for their train.
The train is sleek, modern and FAST! Over 300 Km/hour is our top speed (about 200 miles/hour) as we move south in blessed, non-smoking comfort. They even have stewardesses (I mean, uh, "train attendants" ?) that shuffle down the aisle with a skinny cart full of juice, coffee and yes, even peanuts.
A quick stop at the Naples Centrali Station, and then we arrive in Salerno on the Mediterranean Sea (Ok.…Ok .…keep your pants on, geography buffs.…I NOW know that we are actually on the Tyrrhenian Sea, not the Mediterranean. Aren't you smart.) We make our way out of the train, through the familiar gauntlet of cigarette smoke and step out into the COOL of Salerno. For the first time since we landed in Italy I am glad I brought a sweater.
Our teeth chatter as we drag our carry-ons across the cobblestones in search of the ferry port. It's an easy 3-4 block walk from the train station, but the distance is not the problem - the problem is crossing the streets. Pedestrians most definitely do NOT have the right of way here and you are actively taking your life in your hands when you try to get from one side of the street to the other. Green light or no, crosswalk or no, your safest bet is finding a local and trying to be their shadow. This technique gets us close, but not all the way. The final street we have to cross has no signal and although it DOES have the white striped lines that are SUPPOSED to indicate a cross walk, it's really more of a cosmic tease here. The traffic never stops and we find ourselves stymied. We are not sure what we should do so we just stand there. When along comes our savior…another "little man" in a cute white fedora has boldly stepped into the middle of the street and, with both arms outstretched, has stopped all the traffic. For US. My heart swells with gratitude for this kind gesture and we all run-walk across the street before the spell is broken. I thank him profusely in broken, accented Italian ("Grazie!! Grazie mille" (a 1,000 thank you's !!) and he asks if we are looking for the ferry to Amalfi. Dumbfounded that he could possibly know this, I excitedly reply, "Sî Sî" and he shows us where to go.
The ferry takes us along the Amalfi Coast past picture-perfect towns where colorful houses cling to each other and lean a little towards the sea. Atrani.…Praiano…Positano…The names just rrrrroll off your tongue, don't they? The day is windy, the sea is rough and we are getting wet. I lick my lips and they are salty. Folks from the upper deck start rushing down the stairs in search of a calmer seat and the boat starts to turn towards the shore (and the town of Amalfi.) Another handsome, well-dressed Italian in a Mercedes beckons us his way (Let's try and forget for a minute that we paid him to pick us up…) and we head for our hotel in the next town.
Remember how I mentioned that Romans are INSANE drivers? Ok, well that's true here too, but with the added fun of a one-lane road (by American standards), a precipitous drop on one side, a wall of rock on the other and tour busses cramming the hairpin-turn-laden road.
just DONT think about it…just BREATHE and trust the man behind the wheel. Lots of honking. Lots of vespas shooting past…Often when a big bus comes everybody stops completely to figure out how we will all fit. We back up. They inch forward. We back up. They then sloooowly pass us on the right while we hug the little stone guard rail.
And, again, what appears like utter chaos seems to work out beautifully. Genarro pulls up in front of our hotel and we are home.
A fabulous dinner on the rooftop and we fall into bed, exhausted.
Buona notte miei amori (Good night my loves.)
Ciao!
- comments
Shannon anderson Thank goodness for the kindness of strangers (and those that you have paid ). Sounds like quite an adventure! Beautiful! Xoxo
taugher_family Ahh yes, the kindness of strangers. SO kind. And SO…ummmmm…nice. ;)
Aunt Chris What a great place to celebrate your birthday. Happy Birthday, Kimberly