Buon Giorno again!
In the event you are unaware, I am leading four other intrepid backpackers on a hike from Amalfi to Sorrento over a seven-day period. On four of the mornings we hike up into the mountains with all our belongings (about 15 kg each) neatly stuffed into our backpacks, climbing rather steep mountains to an elevation of approximately 600 metres, then hiking parallel to the sea for about 10 km on paths that have evidently been employed for hundreds of years as supply routes until the arrival of the automobile 60 years ago. We then descend to the next seaside village and check in to the next hotel. On the other three mornings, when we spend two back-to-back nights in the same village, we have the opportunity to chart a hike higher up and further away, carrying only a lighter day pack, eventually looping back to our starting point.
From beginning to end we will have trekked over 100 km, with a total elevation gain of about 7,000 metres. If you see me soon after my return and I am limping, there will be no need to ask why!
As I was recounting recently, we had arrived at 1,040 metres elevation to find a large, abandoned monastery. A dense, cool fog had mysteriously rolled in (again) making it difficult to see and it began to feel like dusk even though it was barely 3:30pm. Locating the other trail which would take us down to Ravello was thus proving challenging when out from behind a small outdoor alter set high on a rock outcrop, there most suddenly and surprisingly appeared a skinny, Italian pilgrim with long dreadlocks, wearing a tattered friar's outfit. Until this moment, we hadn't seen another human since refilling our water bottles at the town fountain in Perogela. He reminded me of all the modern day portraits of Jesus Christ so his unscripted entrance in the monastery's vicinity seemed somehow fitting. He confirmed our choice of trails in broken English by reminding us to simply "go down, down" and then he quickly disappeared into the mist as if he were never there. Very strange.
Did I mention that the views from high up are breathtaking? Foggy periods excepted, every time a path takes a new twist or turn, a different vista is laid out before us: mountain sides fall away revealing small villages perched below on their faces, beyond which lie other villages further down one slope or another. Below those will appear a seaside village with improbable names like Minori and Maiori, with the shimmering Mediterranean sea lapping at its beaches or smashing into its cliffs. It is quite impossible to tire from the various views of the lemon groves and goat farms, the villages to which they belong, the sea always generous with its deep blue temptations, beckoning to us in the distance.
The hike downhill requires less effort normally, however we noticed that the clouds had become more ominous, the air was getting heavy again and we quickened our pace. We arrived in Ravello in no time and stopped in, famished, at the first restaurant that we stumbled upon. In just a few seconds it started raining and then only moments later the skies were booming with thunder as the rain intensified into a downpour fit for a jungle. It was our first of seven all-day hikes and the second of many lucky turns of events (remember the friar way above). The gods were looking out for us indeed!
Here's hoping that the gods are on your side, too!
Barry of Amalfi
PS. Before I let you get back to your everyday musings, I will share one additional good luck story. Upon arriving in Sorrento, we learned that the owner of the hotel, Biaggio, was a "world-reknown" chef and was in fact giving cooking classes daily at 4pm. People come from all over Italy and indeed from the world over to take a week or two of Italian cooking lessons. This is how I find myself, hands-on, preparing spinach gnocchi in pesto sauce from scratch, fried anchovies, eggplant parmesan and a chocolate dessert, too. The kicker is that the entire four-course meal is served to all the hotel guests who choose to stay for dinner. A long table is dressed on the hotel's front terrasse under the warm deep blue skies at dusk and 14 guests, Swedes, Germans, Americans and Canadians, are treated to the meal that I and two others have just prepared, under the watchful eye of Biaggio. Italia rocks!
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