(its a long read but a great adventure....amore Amalfi)
Sea blue umbrellas with blue and white striped chairs line the private beach with a backdrop of a tall castle the Hotel San Chemeno?? A replica at the top of the original historic hotel that collapsed, yet the lower fortress still remains. Less than 100m away is the villa owned by Sophia Loren and the ruins of Torre of Vetteca, a castle built “maybe 100 years ago” I am told by the gelataria owner who sits lazily outside his shop. One day must seem like the next as nothing much happens here except for the passing trade ciao ciaoing or stopping by for an ice cream. Its only 10.15am already got to be around 30+degrees, the small beach filling with day tripping sunlovers from the nearby hotels or Naples, just 45mins away. Hidden from the snaking road 150m above, its down about 300steps, a secluded beach, both private and some public areas. Families and couples soaking up the morning sun before it gets unbearably hot. I retreat to a small cave area in the shade, about 4ft high but plenty long enough to stretch out under the rock cavern amongst the white and grey pebbles, while Domenico goes off and ciao ciao’s his friends. It overlooks the tiny marina of bobbing blue and white fishing boats. An Italian gozza, a pristine timber varnished boat, one that you see in the movies of the 1950’s, floats elegantly outside the hotel begging for someone to drive it along the picturesque coastline. I can imagine Jacqueline Kennedy or Sophia Loren in their scarves and dark sunglasses sitting on the boat, champagne in hand. Unfortunately no celebrities here at the moment mostly overweight Italians on a summer vacation. I did spot someone on the Loren’s Villa castle though too far away to recognise who it was.
The village is Conca, the next village along from Amalfi and lower down the mountain from Furore. Jacqueline Kennedy also had a villa here but I wasn’t sure which one. This coastline, playground for the rich and famous, oozes with money and it costs here too. What may be 1 euro for water anywhere else is 1.50-2.00 euros, a coffee I’d been drinking for 1.30euros is 3.00 euros here......”its Amalfi” they say!
My host for the second day, Domenico had promised to bring me here yesterday. 56 years old he was born, and spent most of his younger years here until he was acclaimed as the top mechanic at the mechanical school then selected by Ferrari to work for them, has done ever since. He moved to New York around 25years ago and has been the head mechanic for Ferrari racing team, not the F1’s but the nascars, but now consults for them in the US. He is well respected in the area, everyone knows him as the “Ferrari man”, any wonder each day he wears a supplied Ferrari different coloured T shirt, almost his uniform, so he is recognised I think. He “deals” in tshirts it seems.
I’d met him the night before last when I went down to the local bar/cafe in the village of Furore. I’d gone to have a lemoncello, grab some cigarettes, then head to the pizzeria a few shops up. The owner of Bar Della Mare Tony, had introduced me. Domenico spoke quite good English with an American Italian slant to it. We sat out front on the terrace, he telling me about Furore and where he came from in New York. He was here for a month this time because it’s too hot in New York in summer. At first it was hard to decipher his accent, he hadn’t spoken that much English for some time as where he comes from is an Italian neighbourhood. My very own Vinnie Barberino (John Travolta). Most of the people originally came from here or from Naples, with cafe’s and clubs from the old country. He was the president of the Salerno Club because he was popular and “You godda know how to do it”, I chuckle to myself at his expressions. He had never been married “too busy widda Ferarri racing team .... you know wad I mean?” 35 years and too many countries a year to name, he is pensioned off by Ferrari for the rest of his life. He managed the mechanics at each race circuit, arriving 3 weeks before to organise the accommodation, race garage and receive all the requirements for the race. He had to test the car before the race “to make sure its okay....you cant take a chance on raceday!” he said.
Yesterday we arranged to meet at 9.00am and he would show me around the area. First he took me to a cafe for coffee, standing on one of the ramparts overlooking the Med. Then we were off to the Grotto della Smereldo, a blue grotto which he claimed “you aint seen nothin’ like it before in the world”. Now I have got to get you in the picture with him....He is about 5’4”, older looking than his 56years, small in stature, impeccably dressed in black pants, shined leather shoes and sporting the mandatory Ferrari emblem T shirt. He has a typical Italian New Yorker accent, with all the classic “tv sitcom” lines to boot. “Yu never gonna see it anywhere else”, “Am I right or am I wrong”, “Yu godda do what yu tink is right”, I could go on forever, he makes me chuckle to myself every time I hear one of them. Yes, a real life Vinnie Barbarino type, without the looks of John Travolta of course.
So we park the car and make our way over to a Ceramica shop across the way. Again a perfect gentleman, he woiuld walk around and open my door. “Yu godda treat a woman with respect” he said. Walking straight through, no time to stop and look at the wares for sale and up to the main counter where a well dressed man is greeted with the usual kissy kissy, ciao ciao. It’s obvious he is the proprietor, a warm greeting, a few words exchanged and we are escorted across the road again to the steps leading to an elevator to take us down the 100m shaft to the grotto. The man, I learn later, is the mayor of Conca and caretaker of Grotto Smereldo. Its entrance is guarded by two t-shirted men with bum bags collecting the 5euro entrance fee from the many tourists lined up to visit the grotto. They greet Domenico with respect and all I can understand is “Ferrari” every now and then throughout the conversation. “We pay nothing” Domenico informs me with a wry smile and a wink then we are led privately into the left elevator, not crammed into the right with the other “tourists”. He tells me, gesturing to the guard “He has been told to look after us...guests of the mayor” and I start to feel like a VIP. We walk from the elevator down the stone steps leading to the inlet of water ahead and the grotto to the left, still escorted by one of the guards. We approach the entrance, I am still not sure what is I am about to see, then a few steps below, inside the dark cave we are greeted with a blue lake with 3 small boats bobbing alongside the tiny wharf. A good looking young man with movie star looks and a cheeky smile, beckons us to sit at the front in his perfect English. He is to be our guide and skipper on the small boat. He leads us in and we sit just below him as he jokes about “skippy the kangaroo”, while he leaves the “tourists” to find their own way to the back of the boat. “We don’t gonna pay” says Domenico with that ‘I’m the man’ smile again.
I have got to know he is well respected and we don’t pay for anything along the way over the past two days. Not sure why and I insist that I at least pay for the coffees, lunch or the cold drinks but in his Italian American accent he says “You no pay, I pay, this is my country and de woman no pay. Am I right? ” I chuckle to myself again often when he says these typical American Italian sayings. He lives in Yonkers NY, an Italian middle class area where it’s like going back in time and you would be forgiven if you thought you were actually in Italy.
Along the way Domenico is driving my rental car, no way was I going to drive this busy winding road that snakes its way around the coast practically vertically. Passing buses, with the need to pullover or back up or more often off the road completely. Those drivers are incredible how they manoeuvre the huge bus along this route. Now I know why Italians make good racing car drivers. He promised to take it slowly, afterall it was a rental. At each of my gasps around the tight bends he’d say “You scare? Doan worry ‘bout nothing, you godda do it. I been here a thousand times, this is my town”.
We stopped a little further along the coast at Furore beach, at least 300 steps down into a deep canyon with a small beach between the rocky cliffs. In winter, a river bed from the mountains high above. A small restaurant is shaped into the crevice with a terrace and offers lunches, ice creams and soft drinks. It’s preparing for a buffet lunch, we have coffees, Domenico says “we no eat here, you wanna eat here? We go to my “cousins” in Praiano”. I make my way into the water of the beautiful beach, its hot at around 10.30am. The water is cool and aquamarine with the white pebbled rocks below. Deep from around 3m from the shore, I swim to hang onto the cliffs on each side. Its magic, the view, the boats entering to peer inside the inlet. An hour or so later we make our way back up the stairs to the roadway, and drive the 4kms further onto Praiano.
It’s another inlet with a semi private beach, lined with a lido of umbrellas and sun lounges, again restaurants circling the small bay. Making our way down we are stopped by people greeting Domenico again, the usual ciao ciao, kissy kissy.
I say I’m going for a swim, it’s so hot. He tells me where he will be and when I am ready to come over for lunch. I swim and enjoy the sun on the beach, then doze off in the warm sun.
I gather my things and wander over to the restaurant where Domenico is already seated at a table inside beside the windows overlooking the beach lido. Wide folded back windows and white table clothed tables all set for lunch with probably about 3 tables full.
OMG now I do feel like a VIP. No menu as the cousin Alfonso snr and Domenico discuss what appears to be our lunch. “No garlic or chilli” is mentioned and I am asked do I eat fish? “yes no problem”, I answer not knowing what it is going to be....Who cares?
An orangey bitter ice filled glass appears before us, fresh water and a carafe of wine with floating peaches. A few minutes later a bruscetta placed on a plate as a starter, I am told. I am not sure what beverage to drink first so I juggle between the aperitif and the water, saving the wine for the main meal. Moments later Alfonso jnr, the owner, around 28years old who was left the restaurant by his grandfather to continue it on as it has been since the 1930’s, served us a gastronomic delight! A round plate of steamed mussels, with a mountain of cockles, with a centre of 3 upright bright red shrimps. Two juicy local lemons, to be used as a seasoning, “If ya wanna do it”. I couldn’t bear not to photograph the presentation, the ambience, with a picture window looking thru to the blue umbrellas and the Mediterranean in the background. It was a coffee table book picture I’d so often seen and wondered if it was staged or not ... and in this case not. It was delightful, too beautiful to eat and destroy the picture perfect meal. “Eat! Eat!” I am commanded by Domenico, and so I did, all of it till I was bursting! Taking it slowly, every morsel delicately steamed open and flavoured with home grown olive oil and parsley. “Everything fresh, yu donna get anywhere else. Am I right?” Domenico’s sentences blending together like one long word. “The mussels and cockles captured off the rocks closeby, the shrimps in the bay this morning. “Yu don’t gonna get this anywhere else in the world” he reiterated to me at least 3 times.
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We talked all through the lunch, mostly about his Ferrari stories, interesting stories of his clients in the US. One of a woman who owned a Ferrari who he’d often been to consult and analyse what was wrong with her car, if it was not working properly. She’d died and in her will her lawyers had written in that she was to be put to rest in the Ferrari! Two seats to be removed and her coffin laid inside then the car to be placed in the concrete tryste in the chosen cemetery. “Too much money” Domenico would say as he retold some of the stories to me.
The wine drenched with peaches floated in my glass as I sipped slowly, not trying to embarrass myself after all it was only 2.00pm! I was already bursting when our “main course”, arrived. A plate of tortellini with locally caught calamari, tomatoes drizzled with parsley and quality olive oil from the family olive grove. OMG where was I going to put it? I’m already so full to the point of feeling ill. I courteously try to stuff down as much as possible, washing it down with the peach wine. I’m bursting and before long another course of swordfish arrives. I am ready for a siesta to sleep off the food and wine. I return to my cave to sleep it off for an hour or two.
Its almost 5pm and Domenico returns from his socialising with his cousin to announce “Lets go” and I am ready...I’m hot, sweaty and so full I can hardly move, but looking forward to my hotel for an afternoon snooze and shower. No way can I eat another thing for days, not even a coffee and I have to prepare for my ‘date’ with Tony from the bar......Oh no Pizza? How can I eat again! What will I do?
I sleep it off for an hour or two......I’m still full from lunch so I’m not up to eating pizza with Tony. I drove down to the bar, where he is all dressed up ready for the ‘date’. I apologise that I am feeling too ill for tonight and could we make it tomorrow night? He is a bit annoyed but says “Ok”. I retreat to the hotel and a bowl of cornflakes and a cup of tea and slept till morning. I have arranged with Domenico for “A better day than today” promised.
Another day, another guided tour, another “cousin”? We arranged to meet at 8.15am, we were going to Conca by bus via Amalfi. Its expensive to park in Amalfi, sometimes 35 euros for the day. The bus stops out front of the Hotel Bacco and much easier to get around. Its a 30 minute ride that costs 1.10euros, even I don’t pay for that, Domenico has pre-bought the tickets. “I know the right price” he winks as we ride along the narrow road, dodging other buses and scooters, snaking its way, overlooking the bluest of seas with a sheer drop below, to the coastal popular town of Amalfi. Beautiful Amalfi with its lively centro square. A water fountain and the basilica church surrounded by cafes and restaurants already busy at 9.00am with holiday makers sipping on their morning short blacks. Domenico hasn’t contacted his friend, not a cousin, that he is definitely coming today so he needs to telephone ahead to arrange a pick up in a boat. These private beach lido’s have taxi boats to collect the patrons from Amalfi and Positano and the hotels that line the coast to bring them to the restaurants, probably why they are so expensive to eat! Unfortunately the restaurateur isn’t answering so we decide to catch another bus to the location only a few kms away in Conca. A 15 minute ride after a quick coffee at an Amalfi cafe and we are there. We get off at the Hotel Belvedere ready for the walk down the narrow stone stairs to the village 150m below. Its a tiny village built into the rockface with 3or 4 tall granite and white washed villas, with blue shutters and a tiny basilica church. Now this is the beach of the rich and famous, Sophie Lorens villa 100ms away, other prestigious villas on each side, I couldn’t afford even the chlorine for their pools on an annual salary!
So here we are as I said at the start of this blog, at the foot of the Hotel San Chemeno? An elegant beachside restaurant with two or three other smaller cafe style restaurants, still with outrageous prices, on a private beach, a small area dedicated to the public, with clear blue water below a rocky gorge up to the coast road above. Another lido sits on a platform built on one of the rocks where you need a small boat to take you out to, waiters delivering your lunch or drinks by boat.....only on the Amalfi coast!
I headed for the beach as Domenico chats with some of his old friends. About an hour later Domenico calls out to me to come over and we are greeted by Franco and his two beautiful daughters, Philomena and Marianna, along with his wife, sorry I cant remember her name. They are all beautifully tanned with perfect teeth, welcoming hosts. He needed to catch up so I again headed back to my towel and the glistening Mediterranean sea. I swim and tan, swim and tan, its hard to stay out of the water for much longer than 15mins as you dry quickly and the sun starts to burn so its time to return to the water. While swimming in the shallows I watch amused as 3 young boys probably 8-10years old, definitely future construction magnates, carry heavy rocks from the shore on their surfboard to about 15mtrs into the water. It appears they are building a mountain of rocks, as if there aren’t enough on this coastline, it keeps them busy transporting them, dumping them. One dives down into the deeper than them water to strategically placing the new load one at a time on an already 3ft high pile. He is the ‘engineer’ of the future, another is the ‘Grollo’ supervising the build, the other already heading to shore for the next shipment. Perhaps they will be the next ‘Grollo’ and I wonder if this is how he started as a young boy on the Italian coast?
I hadn’t seen my host for over an hour, “yu know where I am if ya need me. Yu come when you want something. Ok?” he’d said. I retreated again to my towel for a doze before lunch with only the babble of children laughing and playing, or the occasional tap, tap, tap and hammering of yet another blue beach umbrella into the sand and rocky earth filling the beach’s rocky amphitheatre. Tanned bikini clad girls, tanned muscle bulging Italian 20 something Italian males chatting in groups, it was very distracting but I managed to doze for who knows how long?
It must have been at least an hour later when a girl is hovering over to me, “Signora, mangierie”...lunch is ready! I awake with squinty eyes wondering if it was me she was talking to. It was beautiful Marianna, she guided me through the maze of tanning bodies to La Ristorante Latonella where Domenico was again waiting for me. It was around 1.30 by now, his usual lunchtime. We were seated by Franco at “the best table” again overlooking the beach with perfectly set out tables, surrounded by huge pots of bougainvilleas. Again our hostess Philomena, discusses with Domenico our menu. Again he stresses no garlic or chilli. Strangely I haven’t had any problems in Italy or Sicily with my garlic allergy. “I am a small eater” I say, “Just pocco per favour”. “Ok” she replies and heads off to the kitchen inside. Marianna returns moments later with water and a carafe of white wine. Franco struts over and a few obviously terse words and the carafe is snapped away. He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of “Ferrari Champagne”! OMG I cant drink that at lunchtime, but I’ll try to! It was beautiful...obviously expensive...I’ll google that later I thought as we toasted to the day and my chance meeting with Domenico. The rich velvety flavour showed it must have been a quality drop ....hiccup!
I sit there almost pinching myself at how wonderful the past two days have been with my own private guide, Domenico, “the man” ... how does this happen to me? I am so grateful for his time I mention two or three times and he answers “hey I got plenty of time for nothin” with that cheeky grin.
Marianna delivers our appetiser, a platter of delicate thinly sliced poached salmon, halved sardines drenched in lemon, tarragon and olive oil and tiny rings of calamari the size of a 10c piece. It was delectable and even now my mouth waters at the very thought of it! I have never tasted such delicious seafood. Next we are served a plate of pasta and tuna and tomato ragu. Little do I know this is an entree, as a tuna steak and green salad appear a short time later. I struggle through it, how could I leave any ... it was delicious! I had seen Franco help carry a large, like 1m long fish from the boat while I was basking in the sun, I wondered if that was it. “Yu cant get fresh fish like this anywhere else” Domenico says...again! By now I have basically topped up my omega 3’s from the day before and wondering if I am growing fins with all this seafood, starting to feel like a bloated beached whale. Was it me that wanted to be a mermaid when I was a child? Not anymore! I need some beef ..... not today though!
The champagne is perfect with the lunch, too perfect perhaps because I am now ready for another snooze. Its time for me to sleep it off, I am never gonna make a good VIP ......its gonna take some practice to eat and party on without my snooze!
Its warm in the sun and I am awoken by the revving of yet another boat and a lather of sweat as I am now out of the shade and like a red prawn on a barbie here on the beach. I venture into the water for the last time before I head to find my host. I’ve been dozing for about an hour. Domenico is still sitting at the table and had been chatting with his friends but was now ready to head back. We thank our hosts and they award me a memory tshirt of their restaurant. Grazie. Domenico said to our hosts, Franco and family that we were ready for the boat ride back to Amalfi so we are guided to the small wharf where a bronzed hunk with no shirt and pants, one leg rolled up to his knees, the other down takes my hand and sits me down in the gozze. Oh where is my scarf, yes bought one along, cant do the Amalfi without a scarf!
We manoeuvre between the many luxury cruisers and small fishing boats, 6 other passengers on board and drop some of them off at the Hotel Belvedere wharf about 200mts away. Turn and make our way to Amalfi, the spray for the boat refreshing me with the water. We cruise past Sophia Lorens Villa and I get a chance for some more photos, just for my dad. She has a cable car to take her down to her wharf I note as we cruise past. Its a 15min boat trip along the coast past the ‘beautiful peoples’ private villas with their own beaches and luxury boats parked on the way to Amalfi’s marina. What a wonderful day I thought as we rode the boat back to Furore. Domenico got off at his stop down in the village and I about 2kms higher up at my hotel. I had ‘the date’ with Tony, OMG pizza, what a comedown from lunch but I was still going.
My ‘date’ with Tony was uneventful apart from heading up the mountain to Leonardos in San Lorenzzo, a small village about 15kms away. I was tired and not very hungry, he was boring, hard to communicate with, spent most of the time checking his mobile phone and I didn’t care that it was over in a very long two hours. C’est la vie! I didn’t want to cancel again.
I told Domenico I was going into Amalfi in the morning and wanted to go by myself to just wander around. To be honest I felt awful for not paying for anything and didn’t want to wear out my welcome. He was disappointed but I arranged to meet him around 3pm at Priano again for coffee.
It was Saturday I wanted to enjoy the Hotel Bacco’s buffet breakfast and I needed to organise my flight to Paris from Rome and a hotel near Rome. I spent the morning on the net after a well earned rest and sleep in. It was overcast and cool, a relief from my past 6 weeks of heat and 38degrees. Around 2pm I thought I would start making my way down to Praiano, it was only 7kms away according to the hotel owner and the bus would be coming in around 20mins. I bought my ticket and made my way upstairs towards the bus stop. It was so pleasant walking I thought I might start off down the numerous stairs to the next level of road down and meet with the bus along the way. The old stone stairs, hardly used by the way they looked, snaked their way vertically down amongst the terraced villas and lemon groves. I reached the next road level in no time, still no sign of the bus, so I walked some more. Another set of stairs, down again, purple bougainvilleas and lemon trees contrast against the white washed villas and the blue Mediterranean backdrop 500mtrs below. Again the road, I estimate I have descended about 150m from the hotel that sits 650mts above sea level. So I keep going looking out for the bus as I go, ready to hail it down, as the locals do. Hmmm, no steps and its a sheer cliff face below from this level, so I must walk along the road close to the stone wall as each car or motorbike passes. Still no bus?? Its not too hot and I have water, so I keep walking. A few toots and strange looks, I hadn’t actually seen anyone walking this way in the past few days either, I thought! Its too hot and its steep...they probably think I am crazy! A kilometre later a Mercedes passenger van stops and pulls over. A sweet looking driver, I later find out is Salvatore offers to give me a lift, “Im going to Praiano” I say, he’s going to Tovere, sort of on my way but offers to drive me to the Monastery in Conca. Great its not far from there and I’m already late for the meeting with Domenico, I have been walking for over an hour. He drops me off after we chatted all the way. He has a tour guide and transfers company, Naples to the Amalfi etc. Really lovely and we swap cards to keep in touch. “Who knows maybe I will return someday as I leave tomorrow”, I let him know. Ciao Salvatore and thanks for the lift. So sweet, charming and very good looking...Cest la vie!
He dropped me off and I knew the bus came along here, when I didn’t know it was a different bus line towards Positano. I knew the area, well sort of, the steps lead down to the next road alongside the monastery and I could see the Med just down there...and down there....must be close to Praiano soon? I walk again for probably another kilometre, gotta be around the next bend, surely. Then a sign, Praiano 4kms!! OMG it cant be I have been walking for an hour and a half!
So I keep walking, hoping for the bus to come any minute. I could have got another lift but I thought it was just around the next bend. As I got closer I walked past the coffee shop we had been to, the Smereldo Grotto and Ceramica shop, the Loren Villa below and the others, enjoying the view, the cool breeze, the ability to photograph the coastline, but not the walking too much, all the time ready to jump on the bus. I didn’t think it was this far when we drove! The bends just kept coming then wouldn’t you know it ... about 100mtrs from my destination, 2 and a half hours later, first the bus goes by then Domenico passes me in a blue car, heading down into the carpark. He didn’t recognise me, I was wearing a cap I had ‘picked up’ along the way to shield me from the sun.
I finally got there 2 hours and 40 minutes later! Domenico had been looking for me for an hour. “Whaddayadoingtome. I tink somethink is wrong wif yu. Alohra hav you eaten?” “No”. I could hardly talk all I wanted was a swim and sleep on the beach. “My journey had taken me so long I just had to sit down. The bus didn’t come. I’ll see you on the beach” I said as he parked the car. I made my way to the beach, swam and lay down to sleep exhausted for about an hour.
I awoke and went to look for Domenico as I had expected him to come over to the beach to find me. I noticed the car was still there and asked his friends where he was. He was looking for me they said. I found him and we had a coffee and cake, by now far too late for him to swim as he had promised he would that day...its Saturday! He had to get back so we left and he drove me back to the hotel. I thanked him so much for all the fun I had over the past 2 days or so and how grateful I was for his time. He seemed disappointed that I was leaving the next day but graciously gave me a Ferrari Tshirt as a memory of him, red of course! Grazie Domenico, you have been a wonderful host and I would never have had the opportunity to see everything you showed me around ‘your town’, ‘your Amalfi Coast’.
We had rented a car for the 16 day duration so set off for Syracusa, yes back to the place I was dumped at in my earlier blogs. This time however, I knew some of the best places to go and stay so we did. 
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