Positano = Paradise

After a beautiful and harrowing bus ascent of the Salerno peninsula, we wound down to the coastal gem of Positano. Whereas the buildings of Sorrento rush to the cliff which halts them, the cliffs at Positano approach the sea at a slightly more gentle angle, allowing the pastel-colored buildings to stairstep their way down, opening up to a broad, pebbly beach, spiked with bright orange umbrellas, peppered with beach goers, and ringed with restaurants, bars, and boutiques. After winding down through the labyrinth of linen shops, churches, and art galleries, we decided to camp out for lunch.

Positano

Beach chairs

View from the beach

Beachside dressing rooms

We chose a restaurant on the beach, and sat right next to a couple who were deep in conversation about whether or not to go to Capri. Having long since gotten over my bashful nature (at least to Americans) I barreled into their conversation, wholeheartedly recommending Capri. We ended up having a blast together at lunch, trading tips and stories. We even took pictures together at the end. Tom and Jenny from Connecticut. It was nice to meet you!

So much for being scared of strangers!

Tom and Jenny recommended a boat ride around the Amalfi Coast. David saw the longing in my eyes, so we rented a two-person boat and a captain, who took us on a 30-minute ride. It sounds ridiculous, but it was so beautiful. Take a look.

Boat ride begins

Lookout Squirrel

I kept staring at the water, trying to figure out what color it was. Sometimes it was cobalt, sometimes cerulean. Sometimes aquamarine, sometimes sapphire. Sometimes you’d pass over algae-covered rocks, which would look like a negative image of clouds in the night sky. The more I tried, the more I realized there was no one color that could sum it up. I guess we’ll just have to settle on the Mediterranean’s stunning ineffability.

Blurry picture but you get the idea of the color.

Sadly we had to leave Positano, and even worse, it was on a bus, standing up. Just like I couldn’t quite find the words to describe the beauty of the sea, words also cannot accurately describe the level of motion sickness we experienced. Seriously, at one point, I was calculating the rationality of vomiting into my backpack. We barreled off the bus back in Sorrento, hot-footed it to our apartment, choked down some bonine, and slept for two hours. Whew, momma, it was rough. But what a fantastic day!

Positano Squirrel

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