The Amalfi Coast

by

Kelly Kent

Tired and frustrated, we began the next morning with a 7:30 pick-up. After searching for restaurant vouchers given to us by the tour company, we were unable to grab breakfast at the hotel in order to stay on schedule. Luckily, we had granola bars and water in our bags to tie us over. We drove for about three hours before we reached a rest stop in Naples. My three mommies rested in their reclining seats while I listened to Marcie’s iPod. The landscape surrounding the freeways reminded me of Northern California. We saw an IKEA factory store before we stopped in the dangerous part of Naples. According to Mossimo, illegal immigrants from Africa come to Naples.

After Mossimo smoked a sufficient amount of cigarettes, we got back on the freeway, only to sit in bumper to bumper traffic. This part of Italy was becoming more and more like California! Mossimo had his work cut out for him that day!

Running behind schedule, we met our tour guide, Paolo, in a crowded beachside town. Paolo wore orange pants with an orange and white striped shirt. We were surprised to see a man wearing capris in Sorrento. Europeans are supposedly ahead of the United States as far as fashion goes, so men… look out!

Having an English mother and some college education, Paolo spoke excellent English. Paolo, a 21-years-old university student, gave animated, interesting tours in between classes. Paolo was an avid soccer fan who was enthused about Italy wining the World Cup. The win was even sweeter since Italy, the underdog, beat France, their rival. Paolo joked that the French hated everybody—Italians, Americans, and even themselves.

In Sorrento with Paolo, we stopped at a viewpoint where Jenny and Marcie paid to use the nasty restroom. Below us were resorts with private “beaches” made of cement, since the black sand beaches were practically nonexistent. The floating-chairs were empty, probably because of the temperature of the Mediterranean Sea, as we would later find out..... cold. Mount Vesuvius, an inactive volcano that destroyed Pompeii in A.D. 79, was viewable in the distance. It is the only European volcano that has erupted within the last hundred years. Even though it is not erupting, I would still be worried if I was one of the 3,000,000 individuals living close to Mount Vesuvius. This particular viewpoint was also equipped with a wedding chapel. This chapel was comparable to a wedding chapel in Las Vegas: every thirty minutes a wedding took place.

For the next two hours, Paolo spoke about the history, the beauty, the picturesque homes, and life in Italy as drove on the only road to Amalfi. We guessed whose profile was embedded in the large rock on the side of the hill. Paolo said each tourist said the rock resembled the politician representing which country they were from; Marcie told him it resembled Arnold Schwarzenegger, which was a first for him. We survived the extremely windy, narrow road to Amalfi with no one throwing-up (although Marcie did have to move to the front passenger seat) or from being sideswiped by one of the many tour buses. Tourists are discouraged from driving along the coast because of the brazenness of scooter drivers and lack of familiarity with the terrain. A couple of times, Mossimo had to reverse our van in order to make enough space for tour buses to pass. The fact that cars were illegally parked along the sides of the road did not make driving easier that day. Mossimo told us he normally got through the day with the help of six cappuccinos. I'm sure he had to double his intake that day!

Precariously built along the steep hillsides, many houses were built without building permits. After a brief assessment, I made a safe conclusion that ALL of these houses were not wheelchair accessible. If you are lucky to have a home near the road (or one at all), you can park your car on the roof. A pulley system is used to carry groceries and other objects to homes at a distance from the road. Although Alexis Bledel’s character in Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants is vacationing in Greece (I half-heartedly admit), individuals in Amalfi also utilize donkeys to access homes. I can’t but think that Neil Young, a Canadian singer-songwriter, put his home on the market (for a mere $20 million) because there is no senior citizen community nearby.

Paolo joined us for lunch at the vacant restaurant, named Marinella, near the water in Amalfi. The restaurant had ‘no problem’ when we showed up late for our reservation and without meal vouchers. Paolo’s meal was even on the house! The server knew exactly who we were when he showed us to a table with a view; I'm sure it’s not a regular occurrence to have a wheelchair in a party. Paolo drank warm Fanta (now there’s an orange drink you can’t order in restaurants in the states) while we drank ice-chilled Light-Cola and distilled water. Over the next few hours, we nibbled on our five-course meal. The sauce on the shrimp cocktail, we were given for an appetizer, was equivalent to the sauce used on artichokes consisting of mayonnaise and ketchup. The sauce was tolerable on shrimp, but better on artichokes. Marcie, not a seafood fan and almost as finicky as me with regards to food, barely touched the swordfish we were all served. Marcie was elated when the waiter brought out plates of spaghetti. Whatever we ate for desert was forgettable, but good.

As advised by the tour company, we used Marinella’s inaccessible restroom before leaving the restaurant. It took a group effort, and I can say I survived without any broken bones…

As for a swollen foot, I cannot say. We could not miss the opportunity to take a picture of our feet dangling in the Mediterranean Sea. Jenny and Marcie sat beside me as I slipped deeper and deeper into the water. Unbeknownst to me, my right foot was on top of coral. Rarely is it a smart idea to touch coral; there is even such a thing as stinging coral. I did not feel any sting, but that doesn't mean a whole lot. When we reached the hotel, I saw myself reflected in the mirror and thought all of the food I consumed that day had settled in my foot. My foot was swollen for a few days after that.

We took about 10 minutes to walk through the crowded, narrow streets of the quaint town built into the hill. With no idea where Paolo lead us, we went into an unmemorable museum that stored nautical equipment. Wondering why we were taking time to walk on the cobblestone streets, the crowds from the surrounding shops parted and we immediately understood why we were bothering. Our breath was taken away upon first sight of the cathedral in the middle of town. A long, steep staircase preceded St.Andrea Dome, which was originally built in 937. It has since been expanded and remodeled. Along with the town, this magnificent church is dedicated to St. Andrew who is supposedly buried within.

A shop next to the cathedral, sold Amalfi’s famed product, Limoncello liqueur. We did not purchase any liqueur, but we did buy lemon-drops thought to be alcohol free. We will never know if they did have alcohol in them or not because they melted, creating a mess.

On the drive back to Sorrento, two scooters collided backing-up traffic for 30 minutes. Thankfully, we did not take part in the accident. All three of my mommies, took pictures overlooking the Mediterranean Sea on the left side of the road.

After dropping Paolo off in Sorrento, we became acquainted with Mossimo as we drove back to Rome. Mossimo learned some English when he lived in Australia. Mossimo, an advocate for the disabled, owned a business that drove people with mobility related issues to their doctor appointments. He mainly worked in the office, but drove when he liked the destination. Mossimo’s wife was a psychologist who worked with children suffering from diseases such as cerebral palsy.

Upon arrival at the hotel at 7:30, we went straight to bed!

To be continued… My Roman Holiday.

©K. Kent Last Updated: January 7, 2008 Email Kelly Kent