As clear and perfect a day as you could ask for, with the light pure, the breeze gentle. Rather than the soft, subtle blur of horizon, the line between sea and sky is sharp and defined between the two shades of blue. The sky’s cloudless, just a perfect sweep, with the mountains far across the sea standing out against it.
Lots of boats skimming, and more huddled near our little knuckles of islands. We think there must be snorkeling there.
Kat and I do our thing–hit all the notes with cardio, mat work, band work. We are righteous girls! We split– since there seems to be interest in what we’re doing–between Cize with Shaun T along with his brutal little 8 minute abs, and the full 50 of a Ten Minute Solutions Pilates deal (with bands).
While we workout–and starting earlier–we have many visitors. The gardener, the Saturday complement of housekeepers, the laundry pick-up, the florist who replaces the faded white lilies that greeted us with fresh and lovely white hydrangeas. And the guy who cleans the pool.
Once we’re done, they’re done, I settle down outside to work awhile. It’s never quite work when you sit outside with sea views. Kat’s catching up on work of her own at the kitchen table, Jason’s housed in the living room with his laptop, BW’s stretched out with a book.
When work’s done for me, I decide it’s bellini time–after all, we have lovely fresh peaches brought back by Jason and Kat from a market run just this morning. It seems a fine time to wander around a bit, see how BW’s doing under his pool umbrella. And why not a little snack of bread and cheese and fruit to go with the bellini? And a book in the lounging area where I can see all I can see.
We’re going to walk to the village for dinner–and before we’ll work up an appetite by climbing that steep little road up to the lookout point. BW’s talked about another panorama restaurant, but we’re not sure if we’d have to drive to it, and really want the walk.
It’s cool enough Jason and I opt for hoodie and sweater respectively. The walk’s as pretty as ever, and the climb up that road steeper than it seemed the first time! I think because I’ve done it all at once this round. But the view is so beyond worth it, even if it takes a couple minutes to suck my breath back. We still have good light, and those clear skies. All the hills climbing up, Sorrento spread out with the sea, houses climbing, shrubs clinging.
Kat volunteers to venture up what’s no more than a track to see what’s up there. She comes down again to happily report BW’s restaurant is up there, and just across the road. Pleased with our luck we climb up, cross over and hit the restaurant pretty much the minute it opens its doors for dinner.
We have a table on the big covered porch, overlooking both the lookout view and as it just sweeps along, the view we get from our villa. We’ll dine on our eagle perch overlooking all.
We try what they call deviled potatoes as an appetizer. They’re fries, spiced up with red pepper and some grated cheese, and just wonderful. The local red–an almost embarrassing five Euro for the bottle–is just as wonderful. Salads all around, with a dressing as fresh as the day. I go for the penne alla’arribiata–I like the bite. Others come in as we sit, and before long many tables are occupied. I think our waiter is also the owner. He’s warm and friendly and helps to interpret the Neapolitan saying on the menu. It’s something about the hour is good, the day is perfect.
I absolutely agree.
Night’s fallen, the lights of Sorrento are glittering far, far below, and we need to make another market stop–tomatoes, more gelato!, some soft drinks. Jason and Kat head out as the market closes (more or less) at nine-thirty. Its hours are very casual. BW and I follow shortly after, and not until we do, do I think about the flashlight home in my purse. But there’s enough moon–the half slice is growing fat–to light our way down the track, down the steep little road and onto the more lighted road of the village.
The market is bright and cheerful, the man who sits the counter happy and helpful. We buy those big, gorgeous tomatoes, an onion–we still have eggs and BW is thinking of Sunday breakfast–more of the peppery cheese Kat and I like especially, a little of this, a little of that. And the young among us haul it back.
A couple of village dogs come over to say hello–one is very shy but we get our fingers licked before they watch us move on. I see bats zipping–and our Kat has her first sighting thereof. Their shadows swoop over the road, their bodies zoom through the little streetlights. Eat those bugs, I think. Feast.
Home again, and into pjs. I find though the mind was sure, the system says nope, you just can’t fit in any of that strawberry and lemon gelato after all. We watch some Olympic diving, some fencing. We have some puzzlement over the fencing rules, but watch until the US girls take the bronze.
I’ve got just enough left in me for a few pages of my book, then turn the lights out.
I woke to another lovely day–clear again with a thin smear of pale purple between the blue and the rose.
When the others wake, I expect Kat and BW will make that Sunday omelette before we choose today’s workout. Maybe we can talk the guys into some family yoga. I’ll work some more, I think, a couple hours. And tonight we have a chef coming to prepare our dinner here. It’ll be fun to watch someone cook–maybe get some pointers.
Tomorrow is Pompeii–and we’ll leave here early to try to beat the heat. So today is for home and no schedule at all.