What to do on vacation
Nothing. Just be sure to do it well.
Gail and I lead an extraordinarily full and busy life. We burn the candle at both ends, all the time. So when we get out of the social loop, we tend to seriously recharge the batteries.
A busy day here includes reading, playing bridge online, napping, eating, napping, eating, more bridge and going to bed to read.
The younger folks on this trip may be trotting the mile downhill to town, and then walking the 5 miles back uphill, but not us. That’s why God made taxis–which are very luxurious here, all 7 passenger vans from Mercedes or even Lancia. I haven’t seen a Lancia in 30 years in the states, who knew they were still producing luxury vehicles here?
Lunch today across the street at the Hotel Catarina. We noticed something–something else we haven’t seen in 30 years at home–the menus for the women have no prices. This might seem sexist, but it reduces by half the heart attacks caused when Americans see what a meal costs. Good thing Brad and I travel with our nitroglycerin pills.
The food is worth it, though. This is the calzone I had:
Notice the plate–the Amalfi coast is a big center for ceramics, and most of the places we have eaten have their own tableware custom made.
So after some more reading and another nap, we went to the town of Ravello for dinner. More impossibly narrow roads that you think must be one way until a city bus passes you going in the other direction. I’m not sure we actually found the town, but we ended up at a nice place for dinner, high on a hill with a view forever.
Dinner was excellent, as all the food we have had here has been.
Kate and Chloe both had the pesce al’acqua pazza, fish in crazy water–which means poached in water, wine, oil, garlic, cherry tomatoes and rosemary. We like the name also as much as we liked the fish.
The drive back to our apartment was easier, because there was so much less traffic. And the headlight let you know when someone is coming around a blind curve. We had to stand outside for 15 minutes until the man came from the parking area to take our cars and put them away for the night. I decided I should put the time to use, so here is the best shot I got of the Amalfi area.
Tomorrow I’m heading about 150 miles south of here to the narrow part of the instep of Italy, where the itty-bitty burg of San Demetrio Corone hides in the hills. My grandfather, Angelo Aristede Genarro Pisarra, was born there on via Castriota #15, third alley left. Grandmother, Maria Rosa Canade, was born on the same street, second alley, first house. I’ve got some exploring and photographing to do.