Book Review - One Night in Sorrento by Susanne Bellamy

I was hooked from the very first page of One Night in Sorrento. As a self-confessed and well-

documented Italophile, there is no way I can pass over any book set in, or about, Italy, particularly the gorgeous Amalfi region.

The action starts early in this novella, with first time traveller, Rhiannon, finding herself stranded in a small Amalfi Coast village with no suitcase, no ability to speak Italian, and a hugely important business meeting to attend in Sorrento, some two hours away.

Rhiannon’s world literally collides with Luca d’Alberghi, a charming, smart-talking, and frankly irresistible local, who offers her a lift to her business meeting on the back of his motorbike. But Rhiannon is feisty, and wary of the stranger’s offer. Sparks fly, with Luca’s well-meant offers of assistance bouncing off her like bullets ricocheting off a rock.

Eventually Rhiannon sees no alternative way to make it to the important meeting, so she ungraciously accepts Luca’s offer. And so begins the bike journey, which can also be a metaphor for the journey they each take in dealing with the undeniable chemistry that consumes them both.

My evaluation?

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http://www.susannebellamy.com/

A walk through the ancient city of Pompeii

Pompeii

I was in Primary school when I first heard about the city of Pompeii. I was ghoulishly enthralled with the thought of people going about their ordinary daily chores, and suddenly being turned to stone from the eruption of the nearby volcano, Mt. Vesuvius. Somehow, I thought that this was recent news. That it had just happened in a country a long way from the safety of Australia. I was both horrified and curious, and as I listened to the teacher telling us about it, my mind conjured up all sorts of images of people standing in front of the open fridge, looking for something to eat, and then – whoosh - all of a sudden they were stone statues.

Well, fast forward many, MANY years, and I was on my way to visit Pompeii, in the Campania region of Italy, not far from Naples.

We were leaving the enchanting town of Sorrento, heading back to Rome by train, and decided to stop off at Pompeii on the way. The Circumvesuviana train runs between Naples and Sorrento every half hour and stops at Pompeii, Herculaneium, Mt Vesuvius and the Ercalano archaeological site.

We alighted the Circumvesuviana at Pompeii Scavi station, which is about a half an hour from Naples, and is midway between Sorrento and Naples. It was quite late in the afternoon to be visiting such a mammoth place as Pompeii, but we wanted to squeeze it in before continuing our journey on towards Naples, then boarding the Trenitalia train north to Rome later that night.

We were burdened down with our luggage, so managed to find a locker room where, for a small fee, we were able to leave our bulkier luggage. The three of us decided to split up and go our separate ways as it is such a large city that it was best to try and cover it at our own speed. We agreed to meet back at the locker room at 7pm, thus giving us about 2 hours to explore. Not enough time, but better than nothing.

We entered Pompeii through the Porta Marina gate. The ticket price included a pocket guide and map and all places are numbered so that you can guide yourself around. There are also numbered street signs to help tourists. I must say that I got hopelessly lost at several stages and wasted valuable time in trying to find exactly where I was. I eventually ran into Matt, who also admitted to being a bit lost. Because it was so late, there were very few other tourists there, and it was quite eerie walking around this deserted ancient city on my own. Our other companion, Deemie, also got lost – even worse than us – and she did not make our arranged meeting time and place, meaning that we in fact missed our train to Naples and therefore our connection train back to Rome. Anyway, I digress.

August 24th 79 AD changed the lives of the residents of Pompeii forever. Despite what we now recognize as early-warning signs for an impending eruption of Mount Vesuvius, the 20,000 people who lived in Pompeii had long ago stopped thinking of the mountain as a volcano and so continued about their daily business. There had been a severe earthquake in the region only a month or two prior to the cataclysmic eruption of nearby Mt Vesuvius, but their complacency lost them their lives. Pompeii wasn’t the only city to be destroyed during the eruption of August 24 79AD. Nearby Herculaneium was also inundated and in fact many say it is actually a better place to visit because, unlike Pompeii, it wasn’t ransacked by looters over the early centuries.

So, what actually happened? Matt and I could see Mt Vesuvius rising above the landscape, but it looked so far away, we were scratching our heads trying to work out how lava flowed this far to smother the people of Pompeii. Well, in fact, it wasn’t the lava that did it. It was ash and pumice (a light, porous stone), and poisonous gasses that did it. The relentlessness of the downpour of ash and pumice lasted for about 24 hours and dropped 60 feet of detritus on the city and its people. However, the volcanologists now say that those who did in fact run when the eruption started, were able to get away, but because the initial stages of the raining down was not lethal, most residents thought that, provided they sheltered indoors in a secure place, they would be safe until it stopped, when they could emerge and commence the cleanup.



But, well into the night, a series of pyroclastic surges and flows occurred. According to the BBC History site*, a pyroclastic flow is a ground-hugging avalanche of hot ash, pumice, rock fragments and volcanic gas, which rushes down the side of a volcano as fast as 100 km/hour or more. Imagine wave upon wave of intense heat and liquefied rock fragments, sweeping through the town, asphyxiating everyone in their path. The nearby town of Herculaneium copped it first, then it came to Pompeii. So strong and relentless was the onslaught, that it actually changed the whole geography of the Sorrentine peninsular. Pompeii once was a coastal town. It is now well inland.

In the early centuries after the eruption of 79AD, looters tunnelled in under and took all the valuables. The city remained hidden until it was discovered by archaeologists in the 17th century.

The city of Pompeii today is still an active archaeological dig. There are many plaster casts of the mummified bodies of people who were overcome in the 79AD devastation. The poses of the bodies are quite poignant, as they are in fact, just as I was told back in Primary school, ordinary people doing ordinary things, turned to stone. Some poses show the futility of their demise, obviously trying to shelter but resigned to a certain death.

But apart from the looting which took place many centuries ago, some of the artwork is surprisingly well preserved and is a wonderful look at how this thriving and wealthy city and its inhabitants lived.

The most striking thing for me was seeing the ingenuity of the Romans whose skills at construction and road building is legendary. Their well laid out streets were made of big blocks of stone. Really hard to walk on, so imagine how rough to be in a chariot driving down one of these. The chariots’ wheels have worn deep ruts in the rock. There are massive stepping stones across the roads for pedestrians, and narrow blocks down each side for footpaths.

The city of Pompeii had every modern convenience imaginable. We saw kitchens, bathrooms with running water (the Romans ability to provide clean, running water is just amazing), communal pumps, lavish meeting rooms, nice suburban homes, and brothels. Yes, brothels! Apparently the Pompeians of 79AD were a fairly randy lot! The walls are adorned with erotic images.  Exquisite artwork depicting family life and the stories of their revered gods and goddesses, such as this one of Perseus holding aloft the head of Medusa.

All too soon our time was up and we had to meet up to catch the train back to Rome. In a perfect world, I would prefer to take a whole day out to explore Pompeii, Herculaneium and the Ercalano archaeological site and will do that next time I visit. If you go in summer, take water and a hat, and wear very stout shoes. It is hard going, but very well worth it.

* http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ancient/romans/pompeii_portents_01.shtml

The Amalfi Coast: Positano

Under the Campania Sun

"Positano bites deep. It is a dream place that isn’t quite real when you are there and becomes beckoningly real after you have gone." John Steinbeck, Harper's Bazaar, May 1953

  Ask any of my friends what my favourite chick flick is, and they will tell you: ‘Under the Tuscan Sun’. It’s a wonderful story of courage, adventure, new beginnings, and for a woman of a certain age, it is most uplifting. It is based on the novel by Frances Mayes whose own adventures in Tuscany are well documented in her many books. You should visit her web site or subscribe to her blog. Frances is one of my favourite authors and her books are a sheer delight to read.

However, Positano is a town a long way away from Cortona, Tuscany. It is, in fact, a town stuck like a limpet to the sheer cliffs of the Amalfi Coast in Campania. Apparently the perpendicular town of Positano was founded by Neptune for his beloved nymph, Pasitea, after whom the town was named. It has been inhabited by the Greeks, Romans, Saracens and Normans – plus plenty of others. In the Middle Ages, Positano was an important trading port. It went through hard times, as did all this region, but then in the early 20th Century, it became popular with writers and artists from Germany and Russia. Following on from this, Positano was discussed in a seminal essay by John Steinbeck in Harper’s Bazaar in 1953 which brought about an influx of writers, artists and other bohemian types who extolled the virtues of the town. A tourist boom followed.

For me, Positano is the place where Marcello takes Frances to meet his family. They share a meal and some homemade Limoncello. Later, they walk along the Spiaggia Grande – the main beach of Positano, and here they have their first kiss. They also adopt a little black kitten here. For those who have not watched "Under the Tuscan Sun" this may sound like gibberish. But this wonderful setting, plus a drop dead gorgeous Italian man named Marcello, a beautiful American recently divorced girl named Frances…well, Positano was the most romantic and beautiful place on earth.

On this trip, we were spending a few days in the beautiful town of Sorrento. Using it as our base to explore the Amalfi Coast, we took a bus from Sorrento to Positano. This proved to be an amazing adventure in itself. A scary, exhilarating drive along a road which clings precariously to the sheer cliff, snakes left, then right, then left, and the drop down the cliff to the ocean is breathtaking. Much horn blowing and skilful driving bring us eventually to Positano. No cars, let alone busses, are allowed down into the town. We alight the bus at a spot where the view is priceless. After many photos, we walk down the steep narrow roadway to the town and to the Spiaggia Grande, the main beach. I tell my companions I simply MUST walk on the brown sand beach that Marcello and Frances walked.

The steep road that led from the bus stop down to the township and beach was lined on one side with curious looking antique stores on one side, and a sheer drop down to the beach on the other, with buildings stuck precariously down the rock face at all angles. Only mopeds are allowed here, and their constant buzz was quite noticeable.

We reached the bottom and there were stalls and shops on every square inch. We were really interested in a footpath vendor who was selling bright blue turquoise jewellery, along with bright reddish coral jewellery. My son bought me some carved coral earrings. I loved them. I spotted a black cat looking up at the jewellery and took a great photo. One of my favourite memories.

We walked out onto the Spiaggia Grande. There were boardwalks over the sand to reach the beach. By Australian standards, this beach was nothing to write home about. However in the context of the surrounding scenery of sheer cliffs with pastel coloured houses and villas clinging precariously, the cobalt blue of the Mediterranean Sea, the whole Italian thing….well, this was paradise.

We walked along the beach where Marcello and Frances dallied, found a lovely little bar/restaurant, and ordered a carafe of Italian white wine. Bliss. Or should I say, 'Bellisimo’. A cute beach boy (don’t really know his job role) was at our beck and call on the beach, but we were not really interested in the water sports on the beach, just walking on it. We were also just interested in relaxing and enjoying our wine.

We craned our necks to look above us at the houses that seemed stuck onto the cliff with Blu-tac. Pink, blue, yellow. Some white balustrades on little verandas. Every house in Positano must have a view of the blue Mediterranean sea.

After a time, we wandered through the maze of laneways and narrow streets, exploring the shops, and admiring the range of clothes and tourist wares for sale. We thought Positano was a fairybook town in a wonderful setting.

Time to climb back up the hill to catch the bus from Positano over to the towns of Amalfi and Salerno. We climbed the steep climb easily, as the view is just so stunning that it is a pleasure to take it slowly and enjoy the view.

We reached the bus stop. More and more people came along and the bus shelter was filled to over flowing. No bus. We waited for 3 hours. Eventually a bus came from the other direction, heading back the way we came from Sorrento. Earlier this morning, we had checked out of our accommodation in Sorrento and had train bookings for this evening from Sorrento back to Rome. We had to go.

We were disappointed that we didn’t get to explore more of the Amalfi Coast, and the towns of Salerno and Amalfi. However, we did get to see Positano and it was time to return to Sorrento, collect our luggage, and catch the train to Pompeii where we intended to explore the ruins before continuing our train journey up to Rome where we had accommodation booked.

The time spent at the bus stop at Positano was not wasted. I have yet to see another bus stop in the world with such a view. What a gorgeous town; what a gorgeous view. Arivaderci Positano. Marcello, my phone number is …..

Ciao.

Recipe for Limoncello from Zia Maria’s authentic Italian recipe http://www.squidoo.com/homemade-limoncello-recipe#module147777976 

The Ingredients

• 8 organic (yellow) lemons.  
• A 750 ml bottle of Vodka
• 3 1/2 cups of white Sugar (about 25 oz or 800 grams).
• 750 ml of Water.

• The first thing we have to do is take the lemons, wash them with a lot of water and peel the zest off.
• The lemons must be yellow and not green
• Stay away from the pith (the white part); we will just use the coloured part, because the pith will give a bitter flavour to our Limoncello.
  
• I usually use a vegetable peeler for that, but you can use anything you want.
• Now we need to put the lemon zest inside the alcohol, and let it macerate for about 48 to 72 hours. You may probably want to separate the alcohol in two bottles, otherwise the zests will not fit.
• Put a cap on those bottles, they have to be closed hermetically, and keep them away from sunlight. And now, we wait...

• Zia Maria's Italian Limoncello recipe continues like this: Put the 750 ml of water to boil on a pot, turn the flame off and then add the sugar.
  
• We just want the water and the sugar to mix together, we are not making any caramel here.
• Let it cool for about 5 to 10 minutes and then add the alcohol from our macerated lemon zests to the pot. You can use a strainer, since we do not want the zests here.
• Combine everything, put it in bottles and wait for it to cool off.
• Once is cool, put those bottles in the freezer. Limoncello is best served chilled after a meal as a digestive liqueur.

Buon Limoncello!

The Amalfi Coast - Capri

An Italian Love Affair  

I have had a love affair with the Island of Capri since I was about 10 years old. It started with a book that I borrowed time and time again from my local library called “Secret of the Blue Grotto” by Kelman Dalgety Frost. This book fired my imagination and probably was the catalyst for a lifelong love of adventure, travel, and wonderful places.

I did not own a copy of “Secret of the Blue Grotto” until nearly 50 years later, when I was able to find it on Amazon. I cannot describe the excitement I felt when I received the email from Amazon telling me that a copy had eventually become available. The weeks I waited for that parcel to arrive were akin to a child waiting for their birthday, counting down the days, even hours.

When I got the parcel, I was touched deeply by an inscription written inside the hardcover in a childish hand. “Will the new owner of this book please phone Lisa at 825354. Date: 2nd September 1986”. My eyes misted over. To think that there was another young girl out there somewhere who, 24 years ago, was sad to part with this book.

Lisa read this book 20 years after I did. I read the book that very night. It was so familiar, yet there were bits I didn’t remember. As I finished reading and was about to turn out the light, I hugged the book to my chest, much as I would have, I imagine, back in 1965 when I first read it. To Lisa, wherever you are, thank you for this book and I will treasure it for as long as I live.

In 1977 I first visited the Isle of Capri. I discovered that the Italians call it Capri – with the emphasis on the CAP only sounds like CUP. So romantic the way they say it. I was 22 and I loved it. The whole time I was there, Kelman Frost’s book was at the forefront of my mind. All I wanted to do was to see the famous Blue Grotto, or La Grotta Azzurra.

Visiting the Grotto is dependent on the weather and sea conditions on the day. The entrance is so low that if there is any swell at all, no boats can enter. Luckily for me, that day back in 1977, the seas dropped by lunch time, enabling me to visit this special place for the first time.

Fast forward now until 2007. Thirty years since my first visit to the Blue Grotto, I visited again, this time with my son Matt. I regaled him with my love of Kelman Frost’s novel (at this stage I had not yet become an owner of the book). We lined up on the Marina Grande, Capri’s main harbour, and waited for over an hour for tickets to see the Blue Grotto.

The launch, holding about 12 passengers, motored around the island’s rugged high cliffs until it reached the low hole in the cliff face which was the entrance to the Grotto.

We transferred here, two to a boat, into a small, low dingy. The oarsman skilfully manoeuvred the boat outside the entrance, waiting for our turn to enter. Many little boats were jostling in the choppy swell to maintain their position in the queue.

At last it was our turn. We were told to lie down in the boat. He propelled us forward with a skilful thrust of his oar, then he quickly lay down kind of on top of us as the right wave came and swept us through the low entrance on its swell, and into the most surreal, most beautiful and wondrous sight that you could imagine. The pristine, iridescent blue waters of the Grotto Azzurra. This place was once visited by the Romans way back in 79 AD and was a favourite resort for several Roman Emperors, including Octavia, Augustus II, and of course, Tiberius.

Our oarsman told us to sit up. It took a moment or two for our eyes to adjust. There were several boats like ours in there. The magnificent cavern echoed with the voices of our Italian oarsmen, singing Italian opera, each trying to out sing the next in volume. I stuck my hand over the gunwale and saw how the water made my hand look white, really white, glowing.

The light from outside squeezes in through the low cave opening that the boats come through. There is also, apparently, a lower opening down under the water. The refraction of the sunlight coming through this little opening causes it to glow upwards through the water, thus giving it the eerie but beautiful blue glow.

All too soon, we were out in the bright sunlight again and being ferried back to the Marina Grande. We walked around the little port and eventually decided to stop for lunch at one of the restaurants. We had a lovely meal with an unbelievably wonderful view of the harbour.

Time to head up to the main town, Capri, which sits perched atop the high cliffs behind the Marina Grande. There is a funicular (cable railway) which climbs steeply up the 250 metre high cliffs to Capri. There is also a very steep, very narrow road, which zigzags its way up there. Only a local would attempt to drive up. The queue for the funicular was long, as the perfect hot, sunny day had drawn more than the usual large crowds of day trippers to the island. We opted for a taxi. We climbed into an open top Volvo with a jaunty coloured stripe canvas awning over the top and tassels hanging from its edges in a fringe of colour and jauntiness.

The drive up the steep, narrow road was an experience. It was like being on a roller coaster ride at Dreamworld. Occasionally we would pass a pedestrian who obviously did not value their life. Hairpin bends, horns blaring, a sudden stop as we would encounter another taxi wanting to come down the one lane roadway. It was fun. It was soooooooooo Italian!!

The taxi dropped us at the busy town square of Capri. The view down to Marina Grande, to the blue Mediterranean and across to Naples was magnificent. We could see Mt Vesuvius standing majestically out from the hazy shadow of the mainland.

Capri town is a thriving, bustling place made of white washed buildings, cobblestones, narrow alleyways, and designer shops. No cars are allowed in the town, and the cobblestones are well worn by the feet of millions

of visitors. It is crowded and expensive; designer shops are not for us. We see the well heeled rich people shopping, and indeed many celebrities make this their summer vacation town, including the likes of Elton John who is a regular visitor. We wanted to see beyond the tourist things, and hopefully get a taste of the history of this place.

Way back in 29 BC, Caesar Augustus visited this island. He loved it so much that he bought it. Well, actually he traded it for the island of Ischia which he owned. His successor, Tiberius lived on Capri and was responsible for building many villas between the years 27 and 37 AD, the ruins of which are still standing.

So, instead of following the glitterati, we followed a steep and winding cobblestone path upwards through the town, passing villas and homes, stopping to look at breathtakingly beautiful scenery overlooking the island and the Bay of Naples. We had no map, we just wanted to explore. It was one of the most exciting days of our trip. It was hot and sunny, making us feel homesick, as the weather was reminiscent of our gorgeous Queensland.

We bought bottles of water and walked for hours. Bougainvillea, majestic in its purple, draped everywhere, over high white walls, over wrought iron gates. Flowering oleanders in pink and white added to the colour.  Combined with the blue of the sky and the intense cobalt of the sea beyond, our walk was an intense photo shoot to try and capture the beauty of the day and the place.

We found a sign saying Arco Naturale. Hmm, Natural Arch. That sounded good. So we set off to find it. We walked for a couple of hours, every now and then seeing a sign post. We passed no one. It was quiet, firstly in the outer ring of homes and then into the bush. We passed many little devotional grottoes with statues of the Virgin Mary. The Italians are very devoted to her and they leave flowers at these little memorials along the roadsides.

A peaceful walk, no traffic, the hot sun beating down. How wonderful to be in this place. Out of the blue, we came upon a café carved into a rock cliff along our track. It had little tables with white cloths. I stopped a waiter. “Si si, Arco Naturale” and he pointed for us to keep on walking. Eventually we found it. A magnificent arch of rock, suspended over a drop of several hundred metres, right down to the blue water below. We spotted some tourist boats bobbing way, way down, so tiny they were mere dots. We stayed in this place for an hour. We took photos and soaked in the view and the peace. A little kitten came to talk to us. Other than that, we were alone.

Time to head back. We were tired now from our long walk, but the walk back was easier as it was more downhill than up. We arrived back in the town of Capri and bought a gelato before catching the bus back down to the Marina Grande. Time to board the hydrofoil back to Sorrento. I was sad to leave this place that has been so fascinating to me all my life.

It had been a long day, but Mother Nature was to leave us with one last parting gift. As we stood on the back deck of the hydrofoil as it sped across the Bay of Naples to Sorrento, she put on the most spectacular golden sunset that we had ever seen.

A fitting, regal end to a wonderful day of beauty, adventure and a trip down memory lane. I imagine that Kelman Dalgety Frost also stood on the back of a boat, staring back at the monolithic shape of Capri as she rises up out of the sea with her sheer rock cliffs. I imagine him also being blessed by the sunset of Capri, and standing out on deck until it could no longer be seen.

Ciao Capri. Ciao Kelman. Ciao little Lisa, who has bequeathed her book to me.

Map courtesy of www.planetware.com