The Amalfi Coast

The Amalfi Coast on the Southwest side of Italy happens to be one of those places that is as big as the hype suggests.  It boasts a series of stunning cliffside views, perilously winding roads and, most importantly, family run gelato shops.  Unfortunately it's awash with tourists--mostly the loud card carrying American types whose knowledge of travel extends to the stereotypes that the roads are better in America, the food is better in America, the hotels are better in America.  It makes me tired, this portrayal. If it's so much better, stay in America.    

Alas.  Back in May 2012, the lovely Lauren from my high school clarinetting days came to visit.  She brought Nutterbutters.  She left loud ethnocentrism at home.  This is why I like her. 

We picked up Rosa along the way and hopped a flight to Naples, the apparent armpit of Italy.  One car hire and a veer through the steep, mountained hills later, we found ourselves at our accommodation, a B&B perched high on one city wall or another.  

Our view:  

And then we mapped out a route in, up and around to the surrounding villages.  The village of Amalfi itself was probably the most picturesque, with colourful houses built into the steep cliffs and a small beach.  Having left 12 degrees and rain, we basked in the 23-degree sun. 

And then we dug our car out of the 20-euro a day parking spot and made our way to the villages of Ravello, Furore, Positano et al.  Our favourite spot boasted 5 euro glasses of prosecco and strawberries perched high in the air.

Pictures are slow on the upload which is what happens when you use the free wifi at Foyles along with the rest of the trendies/cheapskates.  Slowly, slowly.