The next morning we woke up, got dressed, went downstairs, and ate breakfast next to two other Americans. We ended up sharing vital pieces of information with each other. They told us that driving along the Almalfi Coast was beautiful, but it would raise the hairs on our necks. We were warned to stop when a tour bus comes through on those skinny roads because they wouldn't be afraid to knock off half of your car. We also informed them that the city of Pompei was within walking distance. We warned them about the hustlers, and we warned them about the entrance fee to get into Pompei. Very vital information was exchanged at this breakfast. I'm glad we met that couple.
When we got on the road Ahmee and Poppy commented about the crazy Italian motorcyclists (btw, I haven't mentioned this yet-the motorcyclists in Italy have no problem taking to the middle whenever they want to pass someone, even if there is traffic going both ways) and how tunnels were so dreary and how we couldn't see anything in them.
After several tunnels we arrived on the hillside overlooking the city and the Mediterranean. We drove on a road where on the right I could see that the sea was a mere 200 foot drop below us (add more to that as we went up the mountain). As we started getting closer and closer to Positano (the town where Marcelo lives in UNDER THE TUSCAN SUN!!!!) the road lost its yellow line and continuously got thinner and thinner (with the wall between us and the cliff face where 500 feet below us was the sea).
No one seemed to notice this as they went flying around the curves. Once we got to Positano the question was asked if we should stop and window shop like the guidebook recommended. I said I didn't want to. Why didn't I want to? The roads were tiny in Positano and I just wanted to get out, I didn't want to walk on the streets where I felt like hitting a pedestrian would score you 10 points, where tourist buses had no problem scraping away parts of cars (Ahmee and Poppy saw a mirror that had been torn off on the road), and where no one seemed to slow down enough for you to really get a chance to walk across the street. We continued on through Positano and found a marvelous ceramic shop that had (a choir of angels sings at these words) a parking lot.
We pulled in and got a lesson on how they make the ceramics, how their tables were different from other ceramics in that they could withstand heat (the paint wouldn't fade in the sun), and how they didn't break easily at all (were made of rock, not clay). I adored the tables. My favorite one was their biggest one that was upstairs. My tastes are far too expensive for the times ahead of me I think. The table I liked most was hundreds of thousands of dollars. I can't even remember how much it was. I think something like 150,000. Educating my tastes might be a bad thing if I'm only introduced to high-quality, expensive things. The things I picked out that I liked managed to convey something to Ahmee though: I like rich colors (not just blue).
Before we left we grabbed their business cards so that whenever I get older and have enough money to get a table I'll be able to get in contact with them (ha!). Then we headed on to the next town where we parked the car and walked through town to find an excellent restaurant where we got to enjoy the view of Positano (the famous city known for it's ceramics and it's antiques), gobble our food, and sip our drinks (I got tap coca cola with lemon and it was incredible! Even better than the coke that comes in a glass bottle). We savored everything, and I adored the time not spent in the car on the road or walking on the road. Before we got back in the car we checked out the local church. The outside was in need of work, but the inside was very very pretty. It had a ceramic floor, painted ceilings and walls (yellow, green, and gold look really good together),
After admiring the church we got back on the road to head back to the hotel. The roads got thinner, the curves got sharper (had mirrors up to give you a short warning if another car or tourist bus was coming), the minuscule tunnels became more numerous (people had no problem parking in these too-insane!), and the super-fast drivers never ended. I came to appreciate the "crazy" motorcyclists, and dred all other vehicles that took up a large percentage of the road. I tried looking out the windows at the beautiful scenery. We went from the cliffs above the sea to the forested mountains, and eventually to the big city. Throughout the drive I apparently wasn't focusing enough on the scenery, the whole time I was talking to myself (I didn't know this until we got back to the hotel room and Ahmee told me) and going, "Go on the other side of the road! Oh gosh no! Oh oh are we going to make it? Here comes a bus! Ah! Get over there! Oh oh are we going to make it?" (these are the things Ahmee said I said). I'm surprised that Poppy asked how I was doing one of the times we stopped. My answer was accurate. I told him that I was strung tighter than a piano string.
After navigating our way back to the hotel (we got into the town of Pompei but couldn't find the ruins for an hour), we ate and then Poppy and I took the computer down to the restaurant where I made sure to email people and send schoolwork (I told Sara that if we ever go on a trip and we go to Italy that I never wanted to drive).
Sleep came quickly for me that night. I wonder why....
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