We should have learned from our experience back in Frigento that Google Maps could not be trusted in Southern Italy, but it was around the time we reached Positano that the lesson hit home. We’d spent the better part of the afternoon looking for a restaurant that Rand had read about, and found that…
At some point, all of the cities on the Amalfi coast started to blur, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I resort to describing all of them as “lovely” and “charming” and “like a tower of colorful stone blocks precariously piled one atop the other.” But, see, they all were.
This was the interior dining room at the Hotel Santa Caterina. We ate breakfast here only once, when a light rain was falling.
The evening after you get back from Ravello, and your cab driver has just ripped you off to the tune of 20 euros, you will not feel much like spending more money on a lavish dinner. Besides, your lunch was lovely and late, and you aren’t particularly hungry. On that evening, is it perfectly acceptable…
I may have given you the impression that the only thing to see in Ravello is the Villa Rufolo. And that’s not entirely right. Sure, the Villa is the full-sized Reese’s peanut butter cup in your Halloween bag: hands down the best thing in there. But if you look around a little, you’ll find a…
Italian lunchtimes proved difficult for us. Jet lag meant we weren’t hungry until 3 pm or so, and by then, everything was closed. So we spent most afternoons wandering around in a fog of hanger, snapping at each other until we found a gelateria to hold us off until dinner. It wasn’t our finest travel…
Ravello sits just behind Amalfi, further inland and up the mountainside. You can get there by walking, I suppose, if you don’t value time or your life all that much. The more practical options are to crowd into a bus with a bunch of local kids who don’t understand capacity limits, and tourists who…
“I have to run to the bathroom. Here, hold my camera.” “Okay.” “Wait, why are you smiling?” “Huh? No reason.”
Honestly, if I think about it, it’s a miracle Rand and I end up anywhere. Because so many of our outings are just disastrous. Rand will get it into his head that he wants to see something, and ask me if I want to go along. A day spent exploring some unknown city with…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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