Bellisima Capri

I can’t quite figure out if Italians are great drivers or just plain nuts. Today, we chartered a boat to go to Capri. After arriving, we hired an open air cab for a tour around. The streets are so narrow and the skill of our driver (Alessandro) took my breath away. He obviously treasured his car and he delicately squeezed it past some big buses. In fact, he told us his priorities in life are children first, then soccer, then cars…then his wife. Of course, his wife wasn’t within earshot. J.

After a few hours of sightseeing, we headed back to the boat. Salvatore (our skipper) took us to see the Blue Grotto. The entrance is very low but once in, the cavern is large and the water a magnificent turquoise. Our boat handler thought he was Pavarotti reborn so he sung his little heart out. Endlessly. We had to tip him to shut him up.

We then cruised to the Grotto Esmeralda and the White Grotto and the crazy Kiwi’s decided to have a swim. Alan described it as ‘brisk’ (read freezing). They certainly didn’t stay in very long. Later we drove to see the Faraglioni. This is where I decided Italian drivers could possibly be nuts. Salvatore didn’t drive round them but through them. In a boat. In the ocean.

Lucky he’s good looking. Helps deal with the crazy factor.

We finished the day with a lunch at fisherman’s village. Simply put, absolutely superb. Sated beyond belief, we cruised back to Positano. Great day made even better by catching a cab to avoid the 700 steps to the villa. Lazy I know but hey…it was just one of those days. Idle and absolutely wonderful.

                                                  Salvatore serving Prosecco as we leave port

                                                                          Arriving at Capri

                                                                      Open air touring car

                                              Alessandro (Italian men are drop dead gorgeous)

                                                                       Capri main square

                                                                 Entering the Blue Grotto

                                                                           Inside the Grotto

                                                           Tick another one off the bucket list

                                                                                Faraglioni

                                                              Driving through the Faraglioni arch

                                                  Crazy Kiwis swimming in the Mediterranean

                                                     Rob mellowed out after a long, late lunch

Wine, Food and Sex

I don’t know what it is about Positano that brings forth these lusty desires. Upon arriving at Villa Adonia, I was more than a little amused to see the bedrooms decorated with erotic art. The kitchen has three separate gas burners and a grill. The dining room is huge and decorated with Venetian chandeliers. There are three cabinets full of wine glasses.

Wine, food and sex. I am grinning.

The Villa is right at the top of the town which means 739 steps to the beach. The narrow paths are lined with small boutiques, art galleries, wine shops, trattorias, gelaterias, and enotecas so it isn’t like you starve on the way down. It’s an Italian treasure trove. What I really sense is that Positano brings out the inner goddess. That earthy, lusty woman (or man) that is buried under fear and expectation. It’s nice knowing you are bella. It’s good knowing your hips wriggle as you walk down the (many) stairs. It’s good remembering that you are attractive and confidently smile at the world.

That is the magic of Positano. The awakening of the senses. Oh…and the food, wine and sex aren’t bad either.

Natural Viagra (Pepperoncino)

Villa Adonia on top of the hill

Villa Adonia - once a watch tower from the middle ages

Steps to the beach

Gelati on the waterfront

Wonderful Positano

I asked a guy at the traffic light if I could have a pic in his Cinque Cento so he opened his roof and let me in. This is a 1967 vintage.

Hand Made Shoes

We are having a lazy day today and I was thinking back to some of the characters I have met. One in particular made me feel warm and fuzzy because she reminded me of my grandmother.

We had spent the rainy morning in Florence searching for leather and the troop headed back to the Hotel for a siesta after lunch. Allan and I decided to go looking for ‘Il Gatto Bianco’ (The White Cat), a silversmith who specialises in modern designs (none of which I liked by the way). As we were power walking through the city, I asked Allan if he wanted to go to Santo Spirito where the best shoe smiths have their shops.

“I need a pair of shoes” he says. So we head up river and cross the Ponte alla Carraia and head for Via Santo Spirito. I am a lover of shoes so I was very pleased Allan needed a pair.

We head for Stefano Bemer who makes a great array of men’s designs. The shop is small and pokey but full of incredible shoes. The lady assures us she can make a pair but the first template will be ready in July (yes July) when Allan will need to return for a fitting. He should get the completed shoes by mmmmm…maybe October. That's a 'no'.

Off we go and we come across Calzature Francesco Da Firenze.  It is a dusty little shop in front with a factory out back. We head in to be greeted by an old woman who is the epitome of the Italian ‘Nonna’. I make polite noises in Italian whilst Allan peruses the boots. He sees a pair he likes and they are perfecto. Awesome boots with a gorgeous finish. So, Nonna notices that we both like the boots and she calls out her son, Valerio.

“Measure his feet subito” she instructs.

Valerio does this and that and eventually pronounces ‘ha ha…I am finished’. He tells Allan he has normal feet. Nice to know. He then pronounces he will make a perfectly fitted pair of leather boots and send them to New Zealand once they are complete. This will take 5 to 6 weeks in total. He then names the price.

Allan pales…thinks for a few minutes .Nonna waits patiently. Finally, Allan decides to ring Susan and pulls out his phone.

“What is he doing” asks Nonna.

“He’s calling his wife” I explain

“Why” she asks quite perplexed.

“Because he and his wife make decisions together”

Nonna shakes her head. She slaps her hand on her chest and pronounces that this is not the way she does things.

“If I want something” she tells me “I buy it. It is my affair and not that of my husband”

“What if your husband wants to buy something?” I ask,

“I tell him NO” she says. “Whatever he thinks he wants, he does not need.”

I can certainly tell that Nonna, in her dark dress and apron, wears the pants in the family. I love Italian women.

Oh…and Allan bought his shoes…with his wife’s blessing.

                                                                Calzature Francesco Da Firenze

                                                                                    'Nonna'

                                                             Nonna's husband...the shoemaker.

Antipodeans Can't Cook.

Rob loves boats. So when a visit to Portovenere was suggested, he only heard the word “Port”. We’re off to visit this lovely seaside town where you can catch a ferry to Cinque Terre.  The road runs through Massa which means a drive through the mountains. Villages are perched on the edges of cliffs and boy, it’s a long way down.  The view is simply staggering.

So is Portovenere.

Churches hang over the sea. There is a cemetery with the world’s best view. Looking over the brightly coloured houses is a castle. It’s stuff straight from a fairy story. We rode on a boat to a little island called Isola Palmaria where we found Loconda Lorena…a superb restaurant on the sea. The owner (Giuseppe Basse) happily displays pictures of him with his guests which include Rod Stewart, Gwyneth Paltrow, Warren Beatty, Michael Jordan, Kylie Minogue (and now us). He is a large smiley man who knows how to throw a mega wobbly when things don’t happen as they should (you can hear his displeasure all over the restaurant). Very funny and so Italian. We were served a fantastic seafood lunch with varieties of seafood cooked 20 ways. My Uncle Antonio was in raptures and told me nine times how good the seafood is. By the tenth, I said “you know Zio, we also have wonderful seafood in New Zealand and Australia”

Zio looks at me and ponders. “Yes” he said “you do. It is simply a pity that your chefs do not know how to cook it!”

I could not argue with that.

www.locandalorena.com

Bon Gusto.

                                                                               Porto Venere

                                                          Porto Venere from the Castle Doria

                                               Churches get the best real estate in Portovenere

                                                                      Cemetary with a view

                                                                          Locanda Lorena

Aunties and Uncles

We left Venice on the train…easy peasy and safe as a bank. I definitely recommend train travel. We then collected a car and started for Castelnuovo Di Garfagnana on the Autostrata. Let me tell you, if you want a thrill…give the movieworld rollercoasters a miss. Just rent a car in Italy and go for a drive. Poor Alice in the back seat learnt some colourful language from her scared shitless Aunt. Rob just rolled his eyes and kept driving.

Castelnuovo is a village in the mountains. Here we have a villa for a week and two Aunties and Uncles are coming for a visit. My Italian family are everything you imagine and Italian family to be…warm, funny, kind, giving AND great cooks. They arrive armed with a pantry. Hugs all round and they start cooking.

Zia Lella, Zia Franca and Moi

They all chatter (at once) and I translate (or try to). Love breaks many barriers including language. And what love doesn’t fix, food does. Susan is contemplating an Italian sea change thanks to the tucker!

Lunch in Lucca

Rob teaching Zio Antonio the Haka

Zio Antonio polishing Pucchini's shoes....

No Problemo

Florence is an elegant city. Art, culture, handbags and shoes rule. There is an abundance of all. And after a day of seeing great things, shopping for splendid goods and having shoes fitted, we needed food! My nieces were wooed by the gelatarias and Alice was always looking for the next slice of pizza. She quickly worked out that following the fat pigeons would always lead her to a trattoria where she could con one of her loving relatives into buying her another slice. The food is fresh, cheap and abundant. But it’s what tourists think of as Italian food and I was aching to try real Florentine cuisine.  So yesterday evening, we head out to ‘Aquacotta’ on the recommendation of our hotel’s hostess.

The menu was about slow food. I decided upon the wild boar, Susan had the Tuscan white bean soup, and Rob the roast pigeon. Alan tried a Florentine steak with a Barolo jus. The food was so good. Bursting with flavour and perfectly seasoned. We even had dessert!

Today, we braved the rain and went to visit the leather factories. Susan is fifty on Saturday and she has a bucket list of must haves. A Florentine jacket is right up there! We found the perfect rich chocolate jacket that felt so soft and it accentuates all of Susan’s bits in a very Italian way. After such a strenuous purchase, Alice was starving. “Find a restaurant” I tell her “and we’ll buy you a nice pizza!”

She looks for her pigeons to follow and there are none.  “Well of course you cannot find a pigeon” I tell her “Rob ate them all last night!” She was not amused.

Pigeon or not, we did find a great place for lunch. And when the order came, we were a little stunned at the size of the girl’s meals. We all thought there was no way the girls would ever finish them. Funny thing about good food, it’s so much easier to eat.

Tonight we try “Palletino”. Alice is shoo-ing pigeons away as we speak! Bon gusto.

So after a day of seeing this

                                                               

                                                        

and this....



                          We can eat this...



                       NO PROBLEMO !!
                                                           

Mister GPS

Venice is not describable. I could go on and on and on about it but…blah blah blah. Come to Venice. Bring a healthy appetite for life and a sense of humour. Prepare to be blown away. Do it fast. The place is sinking.

And please do not listen to the doomsayers who tell you gondola rides are a rip off. It’s Venice. Mamma Mia, where else would you bother?

Our oarsman was Adamo…a young, passionate Venetian with a strong arm and very healthy sense of humour. Allan, my detail orientated brother-in-law, was studying the map as we floated through the back canals. Adamo found this funny. “Hey Kiwi Man” he said to Allan “ you are my Mr. GPS”.

Allan took this seriously. Occasionally he would say “Adamo, we are in Canal such and such”. Adamo would shake his head say “Mr. GPS, you need to pay me double if you want to get back to your hotel”. Allan would then pour over his map and ignore the totally spectacular scenery.

We got home. Adamo, for his great humour and total graciousness, got a very large tip.

The sun was shining so Susan (my beautiful sister-in-law) and her daughters (Meg and Alice) went and sat in the sun. We had apperitivo. Allan decided to venture off and find a Tim Sim shop. We waved him off and continued to languish in the sun by the canal. Armed with his map, he set off.

Venice isn’t big. He got lost.

Although Allan will tell you he didn’t get lost…he just couldn’t find the store. Despite it being marked with a big, red ‘X’ on his trusty map.

I think Adamo was right about Mr. GPS.

Mister GPS and his map...

And again...

Speed camera on the canal (speed limit is 5Kph)

The Venice Fire Station

Washing must get done! Same the world over.