The Isle of Capri...Sigh!

It had been raining since the top of the page. So far, as the group sipped some cappuccino, this was the only precipitation of any consequence as everyone waited for the ferry to Capri. The trip was uneventful and upon unloading a search was undertaken for the funiculare going up to the town proper.

Very crowded but fun; unlike Positano there are some flatter sections to walk about. The views are still dramatic:

Next was the logistical quest for the Hotel La Palma. After a perusal of the town square map Chris decided to use his Italian SIM iPhone to call. The concierge happily explained it was easy and that they were the first hotel in the town and we would have no problems finding it. However that was as detailed as he got. So once again girding our loins, we entered the narrow streets to quickly find our destination:

Whoa…this looked even nicer than the last one. Wonder what their riff-raff policy is? The lobby was quite cool:

The mannequin with the polka dot lamp shade needs so much to be in a certain apartment in Miami Beach!

It took a little bit to get settled. Wisely everyone had purchased a freshly made sandwich from the deli in Positano before boarding the ferry. However it had to be eaten in a bit of a cramped space in Gini and Chris’ room as Geoff and Linda’s was not quite ready. Eventually everything was sorted out and Plan A was initiated.

This would entail buying tickets for the local bus to go further up the mountain to Anacapri, check that out and then find the chair lift that went way up the mountain. Va Bene, Andiamo!

The bus ride of course was the usual curving of esses along the mountainside so gelato had to be used in a therapeutic fashion upon arrival. A moment was taken to enjoy Anacapri:

Then it was up, up and away in our beautiful chairlift:

Someone had decided that the chairlifters needed some visual distraction other than the spectacular panorama. This was under the lift lines:

This was actually quite the ride and lasted for about ten minutes. Upon reaching the summit it was easy to benefit from the altitude. Here is a signature shot:

Please note the relative sizes of these boats. Those are not cruise ships. They are private yachts. This is one of the playgrounds of the one tenth of one percent….must be nice…

Matching the ambience of the rich and powerful were a couple of Landrys putting Vesuvius in perspective.

Awesome rarely is appropriate but wending through these vistas brought its usage easily into play. The return ride was even more dramatic as the ground fell away in a full frontal of descension. Here’s one perspective:

With plenty of daylight left the return to town provided plenty of time for exploration. From Rick Steves’ book a couple of gardens sounded interesting. The first one was closed but did allow for an artsy shot of the lanes of travel:

It soon became apparent that there was a special charm to Capri and why emperors and lovers found their way here. The atmosphere removes one from the mundane and the stressful and focuses on sights, pleasure and romantic idylls.

The second garden was available and was truly beautiful.

Gini found this flower particularly striking:

Speaking of the one tenth of one percent…the property of the Krupps was now being trod upon. This family had seen to the provision that the garden and associated walkways would be enjoyed by one and all.

Now, thanks to Chip, whenever a cliff is viewed it has to be viewed in terms of its climbability:

And of course there is the artsy cactus shot:

On the way back to the hotel Gini was curious about where Paul had stayed. If one is fortunate to visit Paul’s Miami Beach apartment there is a gorgeous poster from Capri that is related to where they stayed. Since the town is not all that big it was quickly found:

A walk around the lobby was exquisite and picture taking was forsaken in lieu of taking in the ambience.

Chris was soon at work on Trip Advisor and found what he thought would be a good place to eat and not completely empty our pocketbooks. This proved to be just the thing as Geoff once again regaled the staff with his Italian. Pizza was had by Linda, Gini and Geoff but Chris opted for the rigatoni. In what precariously might have changed the mood of the evening the pasta was late arriving. This was most unusual since cabana boy graduate school takes place in Italy. It did arrive as everyone else was well into their pizzas but was described as the best rigatoni and sauce that Chris had ever had.

Evening finally did fall and night time Capri showed itself. This was the reason for the overnight. Most people do Capri as a day trip. Wandering the byways in the evening was charming:

The dreamy sequence now had the music fading and would be soon over. Much to her surprise, Gini had figured that this one night would satisfy her Capri curiosity. Now she knew that she had to return. We shall see.

Morning came and it was back to Napoli and the foursome had to part ways. Geoff and Linda were excellent traveling companions and would be heading for an opera in Verona and then on to the lakes region before spending a few days in Ireland. Buona ventura amici.

Popped Into a Picture Postcard in Positano

Greetings. Pompeii must have taken more out than one might have thought. Or else the enjoyment of everything that followed did not allow for blog time. Either way the illustrious group did arrive in Positano.

It is always interesting to view someone else’s reaction to a similar experience. Having been to Positano several years ago, albeit in a chilly, dank January, Gini and Chris had experienced the ride along the cliffs from Napoli to Positano. They also had the even less guard-railed but equally vertiginous roads of Cinque Terre to compare. Now somebody else was driving and the view’s spectacular aspect could be enjoyed.

Geoff and Linda were of another experience. This was their first take on the precipitous perspective offered by the southbound lane along the coast. An irregular rhythm of non-breathing and anxious expulsions accompanied an occasional OMG or YGTBKM (you’ve got to be kidding me). A nice touch was when our chauffeur answered his cell phone.

This is a story with a happy ending so the quartet was deposited successfully at the Hotel Pasitea.

With some satisfaction Gini and Chris smiled because the last time they thought they were staying here they reinforced their knowledge of the Italian word “Chiuso”, i.e. “Closed”. Today it was aperto.

Baggage was unloaded and rooms assigned. It was well received.

From the “T_iumph” sitting prettily poised out front (notice the missing ‘r’):

To the 1950 Vespa in the lobby:

To the ‘breakfast nook’:

This was going to be ‘tutto va bene’.

One could not help but think about whether there would be a good view from the room. It was not disappointing:

The bedroom wall even proved interesting:

Eating, of course, had to be planned. Gini had been waiting 5 years for the chance to try out the restaurant at the Hotel Gabrisa next door. On their last visit the Gabrisa served as their hotel when they had arranged with the closed Pasitea to board their patrons. During that stay they were working on the restaurant but it would open later that year. So calmly waiting about six minutes, Gini secured reservations for that night. Chris was informed that they would be eating at an outside table very close to the road but right next to the cliff wall.

Here is our happy camper tableside:

The next day allowed for some exploration. Breakfast was duly enjoyed especially when it was discovered that cappuccino could be easily included (Chris especially when decaffeinato was one of the choices). The road in front of the hotel was one way and wound down the cliff in lazy esses. This was summarily dismissed in favor of a more adventurous choice. Crossing the road was the public stairs that served as ‘streets’.

Our newcomers were a bit wary…

because we all know they do go up also:

The frequent views accompanied frequent rests; some of the views being signatory:

The road does not go to the water. It continues its one way serpentining in a casual dip before going up and heading ‘out’ of town. Pedestrians rule after that with stores filling every available sidewalk border. Purchases were made by all (even Chris).

Eventually the beach was reached:

A little more exploring brought everyone to the second beach:

One of the major reasons for the further exploration was a serious effort to verify Paul Kahn’s claim of having found the best pizza in the world nestled in a cliff overlooking this very same beach. Not quite matching Moses’ doubting of getting water from a rock, hasty emails had been sent to pinpoint the location and articulate directions. A subsequent messaged picture evoked “That’s the one” from Paul.

The automatic taste standard would be Spris in Miami Beach for thin crust pizza. Lo Guarracino easily surpassed it. The view also was a bit better than Lincoln Road:

At this point those wishing that such good fortune is not being spread enough will wallow in the knowledge that the walk back up the stairs was not pretty. Serious discussion of who would be left behind and/or offered to the gods of gravity ensued. Visions of Georgia O’Keefe-like skeletal remains offered artistic solace.

The key incentive that may have saved all was the thought of Spritzes on the porch and coffee for Geoff. It ultimately worked though delirium lingered:

Showing true tourist integrity dinner plans were researched and executed. It would be the Mediterraneo just 162 steps below the Pasiteo and half an ess walkback since climbing stairs did not compute at this point.

The Mediterraneo was set up as a classic tourist site. Recognizable music wafted as one settled into the outdoor tables. Geoff got us off on the right foot by ordering completely in Italian but somehow the Von D’Lucci attitude of the quartet slipped through. Before you know it chaos reigned.

Our maitre d’:

who did possess some photographic skills:

Geoff was given his camera back and recorded the overall reaction of a sample couple:

The diner on the left was deep in discussion of …well nobody really remembers.

Very difficult to describe in pictures Positano at night. There is the buzz and bustle at the beach (assuming you would take the bus back up) or the intermittent quiet and conversational clusters of the distributed restaurants.

There was some serious sighing however when a particular restaurant was encountered.

Le Tre Sorelle translates as the three sisters. Someone seems to be missing…ah a good reason to return. Ciao and arrivederci!