[INSIGHT TRAVEL - EUROPEAN GRANDEUR] - Naples, Capri and Sorrento Excursion

DAY 17 - SEPTEMBER 16, 2000
NAPLES, ITALY - GRAND HOTEL LA SONRISA
HOTEL TERRACE

About this hotel...it's a real honeymoon delight. I can truthfully say that I've never seen any hotel so deliberately constructed as to be a backdrop for wedding receptions. As per LisaH, it is quite the thing for anyone who is someone to have their wedding reception here. The odd Mafia Don, it's rumored, has even been spotted among the guests. Everywhere you turn there are these gigantic set pieces for pictures -- waterfalls, arches, fountains in the pool. A huge outdoor dance floor and two reception halls. The walls are done in padded embroidered silk, and the plaster mouldings are to be seen to be believed -- it rather reminds me of the rooms at the Palacio Real in Madrid.

After Pompeii, I was too tired to do anything more than unpack and go to sleep. So this is yet another two-day update entry : yesterday and today. Yesterday at breakfast it was a case of Olympic update frenzy -- who saw the opening ceremonies, weren't they fantastic, etc.

This morning, Lisa bundled all of us into the bus for our ride into Naples proper, to catch the ferry for Capri. We made it with time to spare and met our local guide Nadia, who really knows her way around, being careful to explain the drill before ggetting us to do anything.

The ferry was compact and fast. I chose to stand by the deck rail and let the wind slam into my face a la Leo DiCaprio in Titanic. I've always held that if you're on a boat, you should be where the wind and salt air can get at you -- so much better than running about belowdecks with the smokers!

We raced -- or made a pretense of racing -- a hydrofoil into the Grand Marina of Capri. After making fast the ferry, we were bundled off to the end of the pier and regrouped around Nadia. She had cornered one of the ferry boats to the Blue Grotto and gave us an interesting local history lesson as we chugged our way over to the grotto entrance.

The scene at the entrance of the grotto was organized chaos -- well, this is Italy, what you do expect, all this Latin temperament everywhere. It seems that a group of local boatmen have the franchise on entering the grotto, which can only be reached by lying flat on the bottom of a small dinghy -- sometimes the boatman is leaning back over you as well. The opening of the grotto is a horrendously narrow fit.

Nadia, who is obviously well known on the island, maneuvered us into position and gave us a tip on how to transfer from our boat to the dinghy : sit on the rail of the bigger boat, then swing both legs up and over the side into the little boat. Worked like a charm, for me, anyway. Mama stopped my heart for a few seconds when she slid over the wrong way and missed the water by a few inches. Once into the dinghy, I managed to snap a picture of everyone else getting into their own dinghies -- that was a real gas.

At the entrance of the grotto, everyone, even the boatman, has to scrunch down as much as possible in order to shoot through the entrance into pitch blackness. As your eyes adjust, you become aware of this wonderfully blue glow emanating from the depths of the water. Sunlight striking the white sand of the sea bed is then reflected through openings in the grotto walls, 25m below, turning the water inside the most awesome shade of translucent blue.

All too soon, our circuit of the cave was done, and it was once more into the breach before being safely landed at the bottom of some steps leading to a little tourist store and the minibus station. Having made sure that her Insight famiglia was safe on dry land, Nadia gave us a breather with the announcement that since the minibus had yet to arrive, we could either sit, take pictures or use the washrooms. We had about 5 - 10 minutes there before the minibus arrived.

The minibus. Boy, what can I say about it that could adequately describe the experience? Manila driving absolutely pales by comparison. It was a sign of things to come, I suppose, when Carolyn took the front seat and on the way up, Rob muttered, "Dmitri could do that in one," when our dirver had to take two turns at the wheel to get our bus onto the road. All the fun started at the first hairpin bend, when the driver really put on some speed to get up the incline and stayed at speed the rest of the way, honking his horn all the while. Of course the Ozzies and Canucks and Kiwis, being used to a more civilized style of driving, were screaming and laughing all the way. Poor Carolyn was in an absolute state of shock at being in the ringside seat for views of the drop from the cliffs, cars coming head-on, and the barely-there clearnaces between the bus and various property walls and vegetation.

In the main square, we whizzed right by one of the local policemen and that worthy member of Capri's finest merely too two steps to the side without even blinking an eye! It was hilarious, and eventually we landed at the hotel lunch stop breathless as much from laughing as from the skill of the driver. It was so obvious that he was so at home on that road, the perfect nonchalance of his manner was something to see.

At the Hotel Bellavista, we arrived right on the heels of tourists who had just finished their lunch/snack stop -- and the padrone gave us a warm welcome.. The hotel is aptly named, for it has a lovely veiw of the ocean. The padrone was also a bit of a showman, raffling off a lovely print of his hotel to two lucky people. I think Greg was one of them, but don't recall who the other one was.

We had balcony seating, and the meal was good! Fresh garden salad from the hotel garden, with vinaigrette dressing. Pasta with fresh tomato and basil sauce -- yum! And gelato for afters -- yum! Mom and Dad, as usual, had fish.

After lunch, a minor adventure in the washrooms. Seems that Rob had move into the women's, which meant some of the early ladies ended up using the men's room instead. Molto confusion, as one would imagine! But we're one cheerful lot, and managed to sort ourselves out without too much fuss.

Then after the requisite picture-taking in all available corners of the grape arbor, Nadia decided it was time for us to work off our lunch. She took us on a walking tour of Anacapri, with is the highest point of the island. (Come to think of it, you could divide Capri into sections the same way Corregidor is divided into sections : Anacapri = Topside, Middleside, and Capri Harbor = Bottomside) Our first stop was at a special plaque along the street running through that section of town leading to the lookout point. More local history followed, among which bits I found interesting is that Anacapri was itself isolated from Capri for the longest time. Nadia also tipped us off to Capri's indigenous crafts : coral jewelry, leather and lemon cream (which is actually a liqueur).

Second stop, the villa San Michele. It was owned by this Dutch doctor who, when excavating for the foundation of his Capri villa, unearthed some Roman ruins and a chapel to St. Michael Archangel. To see the villa (now a museum), you must pay a token fee which is remitted to the Swedish consulate. Yes, there is actually a consulate on the Isle of Capri! It's there because the Dutch doctor donated his villa to the Swedish government, which takes care of the villa's upkeep.

Third stop - the lookout point behind the villa's garden, with a spectacular panorama of the Grand Marina and Capri town, along with the blue water found only in the most far-flung places. When we had our fill of the view, there was time for a slow ramble up and down the little street with local handicraft shops. I got myself a pair of pale pink coral earrings in the shape of rosebuds. It will go nicely with the pink coral rose pin that's already in my jewelry box.

After meeting up again with Nadia in the main square, she set us loose again with two basic options -- shop, or visit the local church. Doesn't take much guessing to know what our lot chose - everyone scattered to get their fill of leather goods and perfumes and all the rest. Ended up with a new pair of Arcopedico shoes this round of shopping -- so now my feet will be decently dressed for any special dinners from henceforth. What I need now is a pair of dress socks. Argh!

Once the group regathered, it was time for another crazy minibus ride to Capri town proper. More walking, but this time to the other side of the island, which had quite a colorful history. There's the hotel that was once a hospital for military personnel and when the owner died, his widow and daughter were conned out of their inheritance by the Italian partner of the deceased. Wretch! He promptly married the servant girl of one of his customers.

Ther there is the Via Krupp, which is the same Krupp of the military armaments fortune, the grandfather of the good friend of Baronesa Eva Abesamis de Koenigswarter, who stood godmother to the young man's conversion to Catholicism. Anyway, this Krupp of WWII vintage, after getting married and fathering two daughters, discovered after building a villa in Capri that he preferred to live a homosexual lifestyle. @__@ Only problem was, Nazi Germany had a very low tolerance for gay men who were openly gay. So they called in Mrs. Krupp to testify if her husband was really gay and she confirmed that he was -- so Krupp had her locked away in an insane asylum. Eventually his conscience caught up with him and he committed suicide in front of his two daughters. Eventually his property went to the Isle of Capri as a gift, and the villa gardens were renamed the Augustus Gardens.

It was interesting to note a memorial to Lenin, that champion of the masses, in a place renowned for decadence and hedonism among the rich and famous. But it appears that his short visit was enough to merit a small marker in a shady nook in the gardens.

Nadia also pointed out the house used by Eisenhower as his command post during the Allied operations in Italy; a Benedictine monastery. She also pointed out the Faro rocks, a beautiful trio of rocks rising from the sea. Then she set us loose for yet another round of leisure time.

Another minibus ride -- but not as crazy this time, brought us back to the pier to be reunited with those of the group who chose not to come up with us. Once all together, we were bundled into a ferry for Sorrento, a mere 20-minute trip.

Ahhhhh, Sorrento! That fly-by visit will live forever in my memory. Not for the fact that I got to see the hotel where Caruso once stayed; nor for the fact that the beauty of the intarsia wood creations left me breathless. No, what is forever etched in my mind's eye is the bus ride from the port to the intarsia wood factory!

You see, the bus started to climb the ramp leading out of the port area. But then a small car zoomed down trying to squeeze past the bus, which of course, upset our driver. Which then led to a series of maneuvers guaranteed to make any civilized driver grow white hairs. The bus driver (certainly not as even-tempered as our Dmitri) started screaming all manner of imprecations at the car driver. You didn't need a translation to know that the bus driver was damning all the car driver's antecedents and bawling out any future progeny unto the fifth generation...the car driver refused to budge from his spot.

Size does indeed matter, however, and so does right of way. After the padrone of the restaurant we all were blocking emerged to have a look at the carrying-on, the little car eventually managed to back up engough to let us shift for just the barest minimum of room to let him through. Actually one of the biggest obstacles to any decent manuevering was the bus behind us. That driver had adopted an "in your butt" attitude, pulling up right behind us as we inched forward.

Our second major obstacle was the bus that had been blocking the reverse path of the little car. The driver of that vehicle had just started smoking and was intent on completing his ciggie in the most leisurely manner possible! After some choice words from our driver, the other bus finally moved.

All was well until our driver felt the need to vent his feelings and justify himself to two other bus drivers in quick succession. @__@ Not until then was our exit from the port completed. But more was awaiting us on the way to the intarsia factory. Traffic, buses coming coming head-on, and a short stretch of two wheels on the sidewalk, and this on a bridge, yet! never were were so glad to get off a bus and see the familiar bulk of our own coach and driver. Dmitri was nearer to being hugged and kissed en masse than he knew...

The intarsia factory didn't impress me much, except that the voice of the mataray ang dating saleslady sounded an awful lot like Fran Drescher's. Weird. The products were nice, but we could do just as well at home -- if not better -- and non of the bother with shipping.

From there, it was home sweet home in the hands of our capable driver -- but our road adventures weren't done yet. there was traffic, first of all, but fortunately not on the other side of the road. The highlight of the evening was when a little car decided it could cut straight across our path and nearly missed being our coach's hood ornament by mere inches. Oh, the screaming from the front seats, where our Ozzie lads had a ringside view of everything! Then there was the traffic pileup within sneezing distance of the hotel, because no one wanted to wait long enough for a truck to sort itself out. One car even got up on the sidewalk to get ahead -- something not even a Manila driver would do!

But eventually, we made it in one piece to the hotel and marched our way right into dinner. Weary as we were, we had fun, since there was a wedding going on in the reception room next door. Such fun as they seemed to be having! Maureen, Dmitri and i were getting a kick seeing the bridal food being replenished, since it was being wheeled in right under our noses (Dmitri, of course, being located a proper table away from Maureen and myself).

Tomorrow we go up to Rome after the Amalfi Drive optional people return. Since Mom and Dad and I are not doing Amalfi, it means we can sleep in. What a wonderful blessing for all of us after a day like today!