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2 - Lunedì

Breakfast was lovely. I was spoilt for choice – cereals, muesli, cheese, sweet cakes, rolls and jam, yoghurt, fruit juice etc. etc. all set off with a large jug of steaming cappuccino.

When I had finished, I packed my flight bag and jumped into the car to explore. It was hard to decide what to take to wear, as the weather was somewhat variable. I had of course hoped for glorious sunshine, but it seems that I may have to put up with some cloud and rain. In fact, last night I wished I had brought a fleece with me and was very glad of the sweatshirt I had packed in my case so many times before, but never used until now.

I decided to head for Amalfi and ended up in Positano instead. (My wife will be pleased to note, that that’s the opposite direction!)

I met a lovely old bloke en route. I’d stopped to take some photos (one rare occasion when a glorious view coincided with a parking space). He was sitting in a little garden admiring the same view and we chatted for a bit. (Me in rusty Italian and he in rich Neapolitan, but we sort of managed to understand each other). It turned out that he had fought in Africa at Tobruk. I told him about my father at El Alamein, and we both agreed (with much shaking of heads) that the young people of today know nothing, before he directed me to a road that he said was well worth following (and that’s where I lost Amalfi for the day).

Positano however was a dream, (once I’d found parking). Italian municipalities seem to do nothing for tourism. It’s all left up to private enterprise. There are few public car parks (and they are based on exorbitant pay and display rates). You either have to pay for private parking or park in a restaurant, where the price of a meal secures a good view. It’s enormously frustrating to see a fabulous view and be totally unable to stop there. Sometimes, they even build ‘belvedere’ platforms at the roadside for people to stand and admire the panorama, but with no accompanying car spaces and the only way to reach the spot is to walk along miles of dangerous, narrow roads with no pavements. Who thought of that?!

It’s the same with loos. The only way to go to the loo during the day is to stop at a café – which sort of defeats the object! In spite of its supposed communist leanings, capitalism is king in Italy and you get nothing for nothing here!

Anyway, back to Positano. It’s a vertical village built on a cliff face, plunging to the sea - A place of narrow streets and death by a thousand swish boutiques. I thought it was truly lovely – a real jewel. I stopped off by the sea and spent an hour or so watching the waves and nursing a mineral water before setting off for a pizza in a sea-front ristorante. “Le Tre Sorelle” (three fat ladies!) The pizza was fantastic. The base was the best I had tasted since my first trip to Florence in 1971 – a flavour I had almost forgotten, and the single glass of red wine I ordered (because I was driving) turned out to be big enough to hold half a bottle. Lovely stuff – just what I came here for.

Finally, after loads of wandering and photographing, I headed back to the hotel Bacco at about 3.30. I arrived in Furore at about 4.00 (the road sign said I had entered the town) but because the town is vertical, it was a good 20 minutes later before I had managed to climb and hair-pin my way up the few hundred feet to where the hotel was situated. This area is no good whatever for people who are prone to car-sickness. It is the land of the opposite lock as you swing the car through one hair-pin bend after another.

Another mystery was solved in a flash of insight. You would be driving along in the middle of nowhere, and suddenly, you would come across 20 cars parked at the side of the road – why??! Of course, I realised the cars belonged to the cliff-dwellers in houses below the road, invisible unless you stopped and peered over the edge. In the meantime, it was yet another driving hazard to cope with on the narrow roads.

Another lovely meal at the Bacco; I tried spaghetti alla vongole (clams). It was very nice, if a little fiddly and I managed to splash sauce across the front of my sweatshirt (my only warm clothing!) so that will be a washing job for tomorrow!

In Positano, as a result of a very variable sky, I had worn a short-sleeved shirt and taken an umbrella and a cagoule. It was a shame I hadn’t thought to take the suntan lotion though. It was the only one I had needed, and by the evening my face was feeling a bit tight and sensitive.

The only problem with the Bacco is its isolation. Once you have finished the evening meal, there is really nowhere to stroll or look in shop windows. In fact there aren’t any shops, and strolling at night along the local roads would be like playing Russian roulette with the traffic. An early night wasn’t a bad idea however, as I’m still making up for travelling all night on Saturday.