Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Il Turista Ultimo and Il Mio Ultimo Post (The Last Tourist and My Last Post)




"Positano bites deep.  It is a dream place that isn't quite real when you are there and becomes beckoningly real after you have gone"
-- John Steinbeck 

     This quote is from an article Steinbeck wrote back in 1953 for Harper's Bazaar.  There are passages from it in many of the travel books around town and so at some point we took the time to find it online.  Back then, it helped to create a boost in tourism to the city.   What was most amazing to me was that it seemed that many things have not changed in these sixty years.  The driving in Italy, especially around the cliffs of the Amalfi Coast, was scaring American tourists back then too.  He talks about the scooters, the Italian driver that can somehow casually navigate those turns and at the same time give a passionate description, and the town that "bites deep".  I understand that.  Positano is one of those places that draws your mind back to it long after returning to your own corner of the world.    

      It was around the end of November when we started to refer to ourselves as the "Turisto Ultimo" (the last tourist).  The tourist part of town was closing down at that point.  Most of the hotels were closing and the restaurants down in the center of town were shuttering up one by one (They open back up around Easter).  We mourned the closing of many of them and tried to get in one last meal if we could.  One night we had one of those "last meals" across town and walked back under a full moon.  The stars were so bright and it seemed as though the mountain road had somehow brought us closer to them.  Steve and I talked to each other in those last few weeks about what we would bring back from this trip.  Memories like these will be one thing.  Of course there is also the flip side to our walks in town (we lived without a car).  On Halloween night, coming back from a little party they put on for the kids, we were hit by what seemed like a monsoon.  The wind was so strong it was breaking our umbrellas so we had to take them down.  It was a soaking, sideways rain and to top it off we were loaded down with balloon animals they had made for the kids at the party.  As we made it up the hill I could hear pieces of them popping in the wind.  At one point Samantha's balloon dog slipped from my hand and we watched it sail down the street.  She was in tears.  Steve turned around (he was far ahead of us with Ella) and by some strange luck caught it.  We came home to a soggy blue mermaid and Hermoine Granger.  Even those memories are kind of funny at this point.  It's the balloon animals that will keep me smiling.

A moonlit night in Positano

       After getting back home a friend asked us, with a twinkle in her eye, "So, how was all this togetherness?".  She knew there had to be at least a few good stories there.  That was one of the grand experiments of the trip in a way.  At home, with both of us working, school, kids activities, sometimes it seemed like the four of us never spent a whole lot of time all together.  Then suddenly here we were in an apartment with all the time in the world and only ourselves for company!  Luckily that proved to be a good part of the trip, the best part.  Sure we had a couple of moments where we all thought "Maybe there really is such a thing as too much togetherness".  But those moments were always laced with a bit of humor.  I will remember things like walking through Pompeii and listening to our tour guide intermixed with one of Samantha's home-brewed songs (She always has one going.  They usually have about five words to them and get stuck in your head like a commercial jingle)  She would normally have a tight grip on my hand during these kinds of tours and it made a crazy contrast listening to our guide talk about this 2000 year old city buried in ash and Samantha's jingle but I wouldn't have traded it for the world.  Watching Ella pick up Italian, her pronunciation way better than mine, was a treat.  She had some funny lines along the way.  When we first set eyes on the Forum in Rome she said to me "These ruins are a wreck!".  Seven is a good age.  I think some of my favorite moments with Steve there were sneaking off during the girl's hour long ceramics class to grab a glass of wine and snacks at a spot just down the road at an outside table for two with a view of the sea.  On a gorgeous day, during one of these happy hours, we contemplated that maybe the girls should become master artisans and start taking these classes daily. ;)  

        At some point even the last tourist has to go home and so we did.  Some day I hope we can return to the town that "bites deep" and the friends we made there.  In the meantime, I'll have these memories, some of the best in a lifetime.

Tea party in paradise (kind of like the Jimmy Buffet song)
Making their own paintings down in the center of town.  All they needed to fit in was an easel and straw hats!

The restaurant row at the beach.



Some very familiar stairs.

Samantha on the boat ride to Capri.

Some friends in Positano.  We were a little afraid, but attempted to cook an Italian meal for "real Italian people".  Steve did well.  It was a fun afternoon with great company.

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