Sorrento—it sounds extra Italian, doesn't it? After we docked/tied up here for the day, with optimism we wandered from the gangway into the midst of a cluster of guides holding up pieces of paper or iPads with clients' last-names printed. As we were instructed would happen, except our name steadfastly refused to be visible. Brother.
Past the second phalanx of these trip-entrepreneurs, though, was a third bunch among whom was our guide du jour. "I'm Antonio, I am a chef!" Ah.
As it turns out, Antonio was also a heck of a skillful driver for those several hours we spent threading our way around hair-pin curves, through mountain tunnels, past too-fat buses that randomly lumbered around corners... always giving grace to daring Vespa riders. Once we learned to leave our reflex anxiety behind, the getting there became just part of the show—an important component of the day's entertainment.
First stop was Positano—scenic, hectic, crowded; an hour's weaving through hillside traffic later, it was Amalfi with its own coastline beauty. I think it was Ravello next, where we shared a plate of clam-linguini. Excellent: how did they persuade those tiny shells to yield up so much flavor!
Two observations about the final road part of the adventure. 1) Winding among high ridge lines, the return to our docked Constellation took way too much time. And 2) that seeming detour took much less time than the shorter but clogged roadways surely would have.
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