The trail, Positano, and my first night in Salerno

11/9 - Colli S. Pietro to Praiano, then by bus to Salerno - 14.10 miles

It was time to move on. Anything further than I had just walked would mean a longer bus ride to Sorrento than to Salerno, so I packed up my backpack, which I had barely been using these days, and got ready for the first bus to Colli S. Pietro. I went to the wrong bus stop and missed it, so, grumbling about buses and having to follow their schedule, I caught the next one around nine.

After wandering around lost for a few minutes, I finally caught the scent once more of the 00 trail I had followed the last two days. From ther it was a brutal uphill climb, but even with my backpack I still felt ready to take on the challenge. Actually, I was feling warm and snuggly to be on trails again, as I had not had sen a trail for quite a long time, and might not see another one for a while more. Reaching a height of 2900 feet, I was in a position to se all the hills I had climbed since reaching the tip, as well as both gulfs. I truly felt as though I were on top of the world, and stayed a while to let it sink in. More and more, I find myself snapping the photo and turning to leave, then stopping dead in my tracks, turning back, and studying the view or the object twice as long or more. What a nasty habit, snapping a photo in lieu of actually looking at the subject. Did you see how the light played on the water? How many petals did that flower have? Who brought those stones all the way up here and how did they get them up this mountain? Once again, I am realizing more and more with profound admiration that time is the most valuable thing we have. And I don't want to hear anyone say that time is money: let's not sully something so pure and enjoyable.

Walking down is always a bit more of a challenge than walking up, and as usual keeping on these trails is a challenge that requires concentration and savvy, since there are so many little trail offshoots, especially here. I had an excellent finish line, however, in the town of Positano, a little gem on the sea. The last time I had barely explored the area around the beach, so it was interesting to approach from above, and see that the town was much larger than most people get to see. Tiny alleys and staircases intricately interweave little buildings, with idols and religious statues peppering the paths, almost all of which lead down to the sea.

Finding my GPS absolutely useless, I had a fun time exploring this urban maze, and landed on the beach with great satisfaction. Taking a moment to reflect and remember my last visit, I had a nice lunch on the harbor, looking at both the water and the town.

Looking back, I realize that waking up early gives me the ability to relax and enjoy, a necessity here, as there is so much to delight the senses. Still, I had a bus to catch, and wanted to reach the next town before then. So, it was back up the stairs, and the wrong way to boot, so I found myself about 3/4 of a mile further than where I wanted to be. No problem. I put the petal to the metal (a new one! and here I thought I had run out of different ways to say "I walked.") and reached the sleepy town of Praiano at sunset.

I caught a nice long nap on the bus ride to Salerno, and when I woke up, I saw that we were in the city already. I hopped off, backtracked about a half mile, and reached the Salerno hostel almost by memory. Settling in, I hand-washed most of my clothes, took a shower, and then went to find some food. As I had restricted myself from eating the standard primo-secondo-contorno meal in touristy Sorrento, it was time for me to reward my discipline with a meal at a family-run joint. This is when it is ticklishly satisfying to speak Italian. With minimal Italian, you can ask for a restaurant (Dov'e un ristorante? Where is a restaurant?), and get vanilla flavored reply. With level-two Italian, you can get a bit closer to what you really want (Dov'e un buon ristorante? Vorrei mangiare un primo, secondo, contorno, non solo una pizza. Where is a good restaurant? I would like to eat a first course, second course, and vegetable dish, not just a pizza.). But then, with the Italian born from necessity, repetition, and four months of travel, you get what you're looking for (Siccome ho mangiato tantissima pizza nei ultimi giorni, speravo di andare a un'osteria o trattoria familiare dove si spende poco e si mangia bene. Preferisco non andare a un posto turistico, se c'e la possibilita. Dove andate voi quando uscite a mangiare? As I have eaten a great deal of pizza in the last few days, I hoped to go to a family-run little restaurant that has good food for little money. I would rather not go to a touristy place, if possible. Where do you guys go when you go out for food?) And so it was that I got exactly what I was looking for, and I am just bursting to tell the story.

I was given two choices, and so I checked both out before entering. The first was dead, and looked a little dark, so I kept walking, and soon found Il Brigante (the Brigand). There were only three people at 8:15, but I had already entered and the place was just my style, with dark wood tables and old photos and paintings on the walls, the kind of vibe you would imagine from old roadside Inns of the 19th century. The evening's menu was handwritten on one piece of paper, which floated between tables as patrons entered. Everything looked good, and some things were new to me. Deciding that I wanted wine and water, the easy part, I asked for the waiter's (and owner) suggestions. Soon it was decided, and I started to chat with him. He had been here 22 years, with his wife cooking upstairs, him acting as waterboy, busboy, waiter, and manager, with two helpers. Exactly what I was looking for.

My dinner was delicious, penne with broccoli and a saffron cream sauce, followed with lamb ribs and stewed greens. As I ate, the restaurant filled up, and when the 6 person table I occupied was the only one left, I offered to move to another half-occupied table.

This, as it turns out, was the family and friends table, and soon I was talking up a storm with a friend, a lawyer from Salerno. We became friends, the restaurant owner came by every so often for a chat, the wine was free-flowing, and soon I was closing the joint with the family at midnight.

As if this was not enough reason to seek out the family-run spots, Sandro the owner cut my bill in half, so for 10€ I had a primo, secondo, contorno, dolce, water, and unlimited wine. Moreover, he invited me back the next night, indeed made a point of asking me to come, so of course I assented. This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.