2016 Italy, shopping, Sorrento, Travelogues

Day Seven: Sorrento

08/09/2016 Laura 17 Comments

Kat and I move to the shady patio for our morning workout, and since my girl feels energetic, we do a second round.

I think the woman who came to clean got a kick out of us dancing, squatting and lunging.

The internet continues weird, and only early mornings seem to work right now. Good thing I’m an early riser.

Workout and daily travelogue done, it’s hit the showers and dress for our trip into Sorrento to change money and poke around.

We’ve been given instructions on how to find the parking garage as otherwise, parking is next to impossible.

The drive down isn’t as bad for this motion-sickness prone system as I feared. And so pretty–vineyards, olive groves, sea views–even as the bone-thin road snakes and winds.

Little villages, lots of scooters tearing up the road. I just look away as a car approaches and BW squeezes by time after time.

We come to the main road, and think we do as instructed. But the parking garage ‘we can’t miss’? Hah.

We circle, and circle again in the thick traffic–and there my system fails. But we think we’ve found it! Manage to find the entrance, drive in, manage to maneuver into the skinny slot–and after awhile, manage to find our way out to the sidewalk.

And have no real clue how to get where we’re going. We walk, and walk, come to the busy road leading in and walk more. Along a very narrow sidewalk on a busy two-lane road. Squeezing by others walking the other way.

And walk.

We’re way, way past the point of no return when we realize–oh, THERE’S the garage. We didn’t actually park in Sorrento, but its outskirts.

So we walk–easily a mile or more, and my abused system has no chance to level.

When we actually get more or less where we wanted to be–and believe me the climb to Mt. Jovis on Capri was more entertaining–we hunt for a bank. Find one.

We have to put everything but the money and passports in a security locker before we’re allowed in. And we wait. Wait. Wait. Only one teller, and he’s obviously the champion of I Can Work Slower!

The man he’s helping has a lot of business, and they have a lot of conversation. After about fifteen minutes, we just give up.

And finally luck turns when we find an exchange, are immediately helped by a charming, entertaining man who jokes all the way through the multi-transactions.

Mission accomplished.

As all this has taken so much time, our next step is a seat, some food, some wine for me. A little outdoor restaurant, a seat in the shade. A lovely salad, that glass of red–and fries! Revival time.

And they have a BW fave. Meatloaf. He deems it very good. I can’t remember what Kat had, but Jason’s is some dish with fresh tomato slices topped with chunks of fried mozzerella. [Note from Laura: I know, I know! Description in the caption.]

BW's Neapolitan meatloaf. Photo by Kat — BW’s Neapolitan meatloaf. Photo by Kat

Kat's green gnocchi with tomatoes, olives and caper sauce. Photo by Kat — Kat’s green gnocchi with tomatoes, olives and caper sauce. Photo by Kat

Jason's tomatos topped with fried cheese. photo by Kat — Jason’s tomatos topped with fried cheese. photo by Kat

As we’re recovering from our all-too-urban hike, the staff begins to bubble with excitement. A man–American accent–comes in, and is greeted with big hugs, big grins. He talks of his wife and his girls–unpacking as they’ve just landed. The hostess, the waitstaff all chatter with him, and another man comes in–Roberto! (It sounds like the Italian version of Norm! from Cheers) and he and the American embrace, move to a table while the staff huddle around them in joy.

Friends or family, I couldn’t say–and often one is the same as the other–but it’s lovely to see that kind of genuine affection and happiness.

Add some live music from strolling players–one had a cello as tall as he was–and it’s a nice balance to the hard walk to get there.

Now shopping.

There’s a narrow pedestrian street lined with shops, just what the doctor ordered. We stroll, we poke, admire the fresh fruit stalls–and BW buys some bananas. I find another gift, consult with Kat, wander.

So much color, so many scents. Peaches and lemons and herbs. I resist–and it was a hard battle–buying another purse. So many, so pretty. Same with leather jackets. I do consider some sandals–my God, only ten Euro!! but they don’t fit.

Linen shirts–and that one in the luscious sea blue? I tell BW we’ll see if they have your size, and it can be a birthday gift from Sorrento.

We find his fit–and I find a lovely white linen jacket for me. Kat finds a oh so pretty red linen dress for her–and as often happens, I’d just pulled out the same from a rack thinking it looked like her.

A happy stop!

Bags and bags of pasta in every shape and size, in rainbow colors. Kat buys colorful little sombreo-shaped pasta. What a dish that’ll make!

We wander, and I think it’s good we listened to the advice not to go on the big cruise ship days as it’s crowded enough as it is.

We debate walking back as we’ve found a shorter route or cabbing back to our far-flung parking garage. We think we’ll walk–but first gelato.

I get a small cup of milk gelato with dark chocolate scattered over it–like your most heavenly, God-kissed Good Humor bar.

And as our feet are tired, Kat’s shoulder is feeling it as her bag’s taken on weight, we decide on the cab.

Backtrack, eating gelato, stand a while, eating gelato while cars swerve by. Hit the cab stand.

And as the ride back proves longer–much–than I imagined, I’m glad we decided to take the wheels.

I have more than 13k steps on my Fitbit! That’s enough!

We retrieve the car, wind our way home–the sea, the high cliffs, the vineyards climbing, the olive groves spreading.

Home again. I decide to use one of our peaches, puree it and make some bellinis. Beyond delicious. BW takes a swim, and I sit on the pool deck with my lovely drink and watch the boats on the water.

There’s enough puree for a second, so why not? How about a third–hey, I’m on vacation.

I read, I nap, I sit and look–that’s a fine wrap up to the afternoon.

We decide on take out for dinner, with Kat and Jason walking down to pick up our choices and a few things at the market.

And we eat–pasta, pizza, red wine–on our patio until the stars come out.

More Olympics–men’s gymnastics. The rings–I can barely watch the rings as I always think arms aren’t supposed to revolve that way?Why don’t they just snap off?

A little more reading for me, then lights out.

Today, the calico cat is sitting just outside the open kitchen door as I write this. She obviously knows she’s not allowed in–and any attempt to go out and make friends has her stalking away. So we’ll just sit a few feet apart and enjoy the quiet morning.

Our plans are for lazy today. I’ll write and I’ll read, I’ll sit and bask. We have plenty of leftovers to enjoy for lunch, plenty of wine–and more peaches if a bellini calls me.

I hear dogs barking, roosters crowing. The air, and the wide water are both very still. I may take a walk about before my gang gets up to start the day.

And we’ll see which workout Kat and I choose. I need some upper body in the mix today.

Fingers crossed this goes through, and the pictures uploaded through the restaurant’s WIFI show some of the lovely bits and pieces.

Nora

Note from Laura: Nora’s narrative comes through easily, but the photos are slower. I have the food from yesterday, but none of the trip to Sorrento. So I’ll share another pano from Jason over the weekend.

Can you ever tire of the view? photo by j a-b

2016 Italy, Sorrento, Travelogues

Day Six: Sorrento

08/08/2016 Laura 23 Comments

The weather on Sunday morning changes minute by minute. I’m awake early to coolish temps and brisk wind. It blows the flowering shrubs, the trees around like mad fans. Then the sun beams, washing a glisten over the water. Then clouds roll in and we get about 90 seconds of rain. The wind stills; the wind kicks.

It’s kind of fascinating.

I hear dogs and roosters, and see one of the local cats stroll down the steps off the patio.

The villa grounds, with infinity pool. Photo by j a-b

BW’s up next for a dip in the pool. The sun’s out again, but the dip is very quick as the water, he reports, is freezing. It’s my guy’s birthday, sure to be a happy one here in Sorrento. But a birthday morning hug is off the table because he’s wet!

Kat and I have our very sweaty hour workout on the grass. The sun’s brilliant as we do our Bootcamp Boogie, and not a leaf stirs as we guzzle down water after.

She takes some time to walk about our pretty place, and I hit the showers. When I come up, it’s rained again, and the wind’s back. I think a good way for me to spend this fickle day is at the pretty kitchen table writing. We’re all spread out here, it seems, finding places to read or work or just sit and look. We have tomatoes and cheese and bread and other little snacks to get us through.

I make some good progress on the work into the afternoon. Feels very good, so I deserve a walk around as the day’s cleared again, then some time perched somewhere pretty to read.

I choose our bedroom terrace, read awhile, and half listen to the family vacationing next door. I hear the mother, the father, a young girl, what sounds like a teenage boy. They’re clearly Facetiming someone, or someones. American voices with lots to say. They talk, for awhile, to and about Sayid. I don’t hear Sayid answer, and now as I’m stretched out dozing or half dozing I’m wondering: Is Sayid a baby, a cat? And who is the young woman who talks from home? They’re clearly going somewhere as the mother will say they have to get ready to go, and goodbye. Other goodbyes, then someone will say something else, and a conversation begins again.

I drift in and out with their voices.

It’s lovely to come back to the surface to the blue plate of water and shadows of land in the distance.

As it’s BW’s birthday, he gets to choose the dinner arrangements. Instead of cooking, we’re walking down to one of the local restaurants–Kat’s checked, made sure they’re open on Sunday. We even make a reservation.

It’s a pretty walk, maybe a half a mile or a bit more. A steep walk, but so pretty. Vineyards rising up, spreading out, and some of the grapes are hanging fat and purple. Up higher a woman and two men work in theirs and call out a greeting as we walk. A lazy trio of dogs sleeping in the shade, an olive grove turning its landscape into that sun-washed silvery green. Flowers spilling, cats inside gates aloof to us, and to dogs that bark madly when we pass.

The birthday boy, his wife and son. Photo by Kat

The air’s warm and sweet, the road steep and narrow. A couple of women chat with each other over their low garden wall.

And here’s the little market where we got–and will get more–supplies. Restaurants and old buildings and flowers and vines.

Our choice is down a kind of driveway where our waiter, cheerful as the sun, greets us. We settle on a table out on the covered patio, and are told we must have a small glass of prosecco–for chin-chin. We have many questions about the menu as it lists several pastas or dishes we’re not familiar with. Our delightful waiter (and only he and another delightful female server who I think is also a cook are on duty) does an admirable job of explaining, even using props. The woman brings out complimentary bruschetto even as we’re all trying to decide what we’ll eat.

We’re treated so warmly, welcomed so easily, and everyone knows which villa we’re staying in. It shows me small towns work the same way universally, and I find it charming.

Salads so fresh the ingredients had to be just picked. A bowl of minestroni for BW that’s the size of a vat. Lovely bread to dip, and all before the main. I have sea bass, beautifully prepared, and home-made fries. Another vat of soup–this time tomato-basil for Jason. We’ll have to come back again when I have room to try that. It comes with some toasted chunks of bread on the side. The woman insists Jason put the bread in the soup, break it up, she demonstrates and put it in. He’s game for that, but shortly she comes back, takes his spoon, pushes the bread under the soup. He should eat it properly!

Vat o'tomato-basil. Plus bread. Photo by j-ab — Vat o’tomato-basil. Plus bread. Photo by j-ab

A family comes in, and I swear the father especially looks just like my mental image of the neighboring dad. I wonder, as there is a mom, a little girl, an older boy–though not the teen I saw in my head–if this is indeed the family vacationing next-door.

We sit, we eat, we drink a really lovely house red. Our two servers stop by to make sure we have all we need–and for, I think, the woman to make certain Jason’s eating that soup properly. He can’t finish it, but we’ll take half the vat home for someone’s lunch. It’s a birthday, after all–Kat had an app on her phone for birthday candles BW can blow out–so we need dessert. Our waiter explains the display inside, and it all looks amazing. Still I want gelato. I ask for a ball of the lemon with a ball of the strawberry. Our woman server obviously considers this just wrong. I can have either, but not both together! LOL. So I have lemon, and it’s wonderful.

We’re gifted with a bottle of the house red before we leave. We walk home in the soft night with our container of soup, a bag of the bread and the wine. Flashlight apps on phones help light the way. Cats and dogs wander. There’s no doubt we’ll become very familiar with this route, and visit our friends at the restaurant again. And you really need that walk when you have all that fabulous food.

Home, and into pjs for me. We have Olympics on, Italian style. It’s fun to watch–and the women’s gymnastics are truly amazing–from the Italian pov. The stars are brilliant, the night warm. It’s midnight before I settle down to sleep.

This morning it’s still and warm. We’ll get that workout in, then put ourselves together for a drive into Sorrento. We need to change money–and we absolutely have to visit some of those shops, see the sites, have lunch somewhere pretty. I’m just not going to think of that wild, winding road up and back. BW handles Ireland fine–and that’s driving on the wrong side for us. So he should do fine here, too.

Hopefully, within the next day or so, our internet problems will be no more.

I’ll try to send this now–and hopefully the pictures also make the trip!

Nora

Note from Laura: BW, Kat and Jason figured out the lovely restaurant also had solid WiFi and uploaded photos while they were there. Below are a couple from the trip over to Sorrento.

Leaving Capri in the wake. Photo by j a-b

2016 Italy, Capri, Sorrento, Travelogues

Day Five: Capri to Sorrento

08/07/2016 Laura 21 Comments

Our last day on Capri is both easy and breezy. Pack up what we’ve unpacked, gather our stuff from here and there. Obsessively check drawers and closets. Obsessively check drawers and closets again.

Our days here have been everything we could have asked for.

We’ve timed it so we can enjoy a leisurely lunch poolside before our ride to the docks in Capri Town. We do exactly that and enjoy our last lazy and delicious hour before we’re packed–literally–in our van for the final winding ride down. Offload, reload into our boat with the same captain and mate as our trip in.

This, it turns out, is a bumpier trip. My system questions the wisdom, so I do my best to ignore its whining and watch those high, rugged cliffs as we head out over the water. Big party boats and ferries, elegant sailboats glide along with us as we speed away from Capri.

BW points out Villa Jovis, high, high on its cliff so we can clearly see the long steep climb we did. We’re impressed with us!

Now I see Sorrento. More high cliffs with buildings built onto, and into the rocky walls. Those gorgeous sun-faded colors and bright, bright white, cypress and sweeps of flowers which reminded me of the gorgeous flowers in Dublin that I loved so much. Then, the restaurants offering dining on platforms over the water, and crowds of people dining or strolling.

Offload, reload into another van. Our charming driver is a native, not only of Sorrento, but of the little village we’re heading toward. He tells us to avoid Fridays, Saturdays and Tuesdays–as the cruise ships come in on those days, and the crowds are massive. Good information!

Lots of shops to explore–on days not Friday, Saturday or Tuesday.

Then we’re heading up, again on skinny, twisting roads. Wicked switchbacks with rock walls on one side, or a small field, or a lucky glimpse of the water. He points out the road along the Almafi Coast, but my system warns me not to look, at least for long. We side-wind our way up. Our cheerful driver tells us there are restaurants in the little village near our villa, and recommends one especially–good food, good people.

It’s a longer drive from Sorrento to the villa than it was from Capri Town to our hotel, and I swear the roads are even snakier. Though we’ve rented a car to be delivered to our villa, we may want our guy once in a while.

Plus I have a feeling my journeys out and about will be few.

I’m more sure of that when we arrive.

The little gate opens to let us in where Bruno and his mama and his young son wait. Bruno and his family manage the villa–and own it. In fact his parents built it, and lived here for many years. They’re justifiably proud, and Mama knows much of the area, its legends. We have to be shown around, instructed on how everything works, but first we must look out. All that blue water below, the shadow of land, the rise of it far out. And three little islands off our shores. We’re told they were once called the Islands of the Sirens–as the Sirens sat and sang and lured the boats.

There’s an infinity pool overlooking the water from the villa’s high perch. I expect we’ll give it a lot of use.

The gracious villa offers gardens–fig trees!–paths and steps leading down to pretty spots to sit, and a hiking trail. We have a big patio off the kitchen, with awnings we can open and close as the sun demands. But the view, honestly, the view is all. I almost hate to go in and see the house itself. I’m going to get a lot of writing and reading done in some of those outdoor spaces.

We have a pretty living room–windows and a terrace to enjoy the view. Two bedrooms on this level, and Kat and Jason decide to take one of them. They’ll love having that terrace.

A big country kitchen with a pretty tiled table. We’ve ordered in a few supplies. We have a bowl of gorgeous tomatoes–Sorrento tomatoes–and basil on the counter.

Two more bedrooms downstairs, and BW and I take the one with the bigger bed–he’s a very tall guy. We’ll enjoy the terrace off the bedroom.

Lots of practical things to be addressed, instructions on the WiFi–which turns out to be pretty wonky, and should be fixed by Monday or Tuesday. On the TVs, the alarm, the gate, the doors and windows, the recycling, and so on.

I need a drink!! I hunt for ice. Kat saves me by finding the little tray in a skinny freezer drawer. Now I can explore a bit, the grassy area by the pool Kat and I decide will be a fine workout spot. The flowers, the paths down. The view, stunning from every level and angle.

Time to unpack, and it feels good to have everything put away, the suitcases stored in the second bedroom.

It’s been a long time since our leisurely lunch on Capri. I slice up a tomato, add some basil, some pepper, some olive oil. Slice up some lovely bread, a variety of cheeses, a gorgeous peach, arrange it all with some grapes on a pretty tray. We have a snack on our patio.

We’ve going to need more from the market, and an actual meal–a little later. More exploring, more just sitting and basking first. Some WiFi frustration, more instructions by text.

We have menus from the local spots, and they’ll deliver. But Jason and Kat will walk to the village, do the marketing and pick up dinner. BW will drive down to fetch them since our car’s been delivered.

I pour a drink, roll back the patio awnings as the sun’s softened its heat. We have olives on a tree–not ripe yet, as Kat quickly discovered, but so pretty. While my family’s dealing with food and supplies, I sit on the patio. A skinny cat wanders out. We’ve been asked not to feed the stray cats or let them in the house, or the grassy area will become a litter box. The cat’s not much interested in me though I try to coax him over for a pet. Maybe later.

Now we have our supplies, and our dinner–and as it’s reported to be a nice walk, I’ll look forward to wandering down myself some time. We have ravioli, pizza, gnocchi on the patio as day fades to night.

Out on the terrace we look up at brilliant stars. They actually twinkle, bright pinpoints against the deep sky. The breeze sounds like the surf.

It’s early to bed for me, and I go out in what seemed like seconds, I wake to soft light just before six, walk out to breezes strong enough for a sweater. Soft blue skys with streaks of clouds, high cliffs, white rock and green trees, flowering bushes blowing in the wind, and the water, spreading wide.

It’s a fine morning view.

I think a restful Sunday’s in order, and maybe we’ll make some pasta in our pretty kitchen for dinner tonight. We have gelato in the freezer!

Nora

Note from Laura: Iffy WiFi means the words got through but photos will take a little longer, so I’m adding a few from Capri I didn’t use in other recaps. Enjoy!

2016 Italy, Capri, General, Travelogues, writing

Day Four: Capri

08/06/2016 Laura 21 Comments

In the spirit of mixing things up, we take a lazier day after the day of The Big Hike.

This doesn’t mean skipping the morning workout, and Kat’s got some Piyo DVDs. They aren’t for weenies! A forty-something minute session gets the blood moving and the muscles stretched. Then it’s time for my three companions to get their massages. I opt to do a cardio workout as I’m getting TWO spa treatments.

By the time I get out of the shower, everyone’s back and blissed out. It’s handy I can just wear my robe to go down a couple flights of stairs to the spa. Which is lovely and quiet and friendly. Clearly everyone there wants you to have a perfect time. My hot stone massage was a perfect time. All those muscles I challenged on the hike, and in the morning’s workout get a good, deep rub, and that heat? Ahhhh.

I’m pretty blissed myself by the time I walk back to the room. And there, my fam is preparing to take a trip on the chair lift that runs beside the hotel–and way, way up. The way, way up has already answered the question of whether I’d want to go. I settle down to work for the hour or so before my facial. The minute I start I’m back into it and realize I wouldn’t mind a solid three or four hour session at the keyboard. But I have the spa calling.

It literally flies by, that hour, so I’m surprised when I check on the time and see I have to leave right now! So still in my robe–and it’s an added bonus to spend the bulk of a day in a robe–I head down again. I’ve chosen a facial that involves oxygen being blown onto (into?) your skin. Not sure how it works, but it feels like your face is being quietly airbrushed. It’s lovely and relaxing. It also involves a neck and shoulder massage, a soothing mask, hand massage. All together, more bliss. And after my skin looks and feels amazing.

I can see why celebs come here for a week just for the spa treatments.

My gang had a great time riding high above Capri, have the photos to prove it–and had some gelato to cap it off.

Reason #2 why Nora's not on the chair lift. Photo by J a-b — Photo by J a-b

View of Naples from Anacapri. Photo by BW

The daily gelato. Photo by j a-b — The gelato reward. Photo by j a-b

Housekeeping’s here, and one of the ladies apologizes for not speaking English. Then speaks it perfectly in a conversational way–to ask if we’re enjoying our stay, to tell us we’ll love Sorrento and so on. My Italian’s pretty limited to hello, goodbye, good day, evening, night. And various foods. It always impresses me how Europeans have at least a conversational command of so many languages. Americans should do better there.

I’ll add everyone in our hotel has been a delight–friendly, personable, accommodating. Just as the shopkeepers, the waitstaffs around the island have given off that happy, welcoming vibe. More than making a sale, providing a meal, making the bed, checking you in or out, it’s service. Lovely, competent and cheerful service. It makes all the difference.

But now it’s time for me to actually get dressed. We’re going to take ourselves a walk down a quieter area–still shops to play in. A few more gifts to select and friendly shopkeepers to chat with as the light softens toward evening. We can hardly leave Capri without buying a pretty bottle of limoncello. It would just be wrong.

We wind our way back to the restaurant where we ate our first night. I want nothing more in this world than their pizza. Well, maybe some wine to go with it. It’s all as cheerful and delicious as before. Honestly, nobody prepares food like the Italians, or sees to pretty details as flawlessly. We have our easy, fun, yummy meal–pizza for me and my boy, eggplant parm for Kat, a tuna dish for BW. A little dessert. Nobody walked home hungry.

Salad, pizza, eggplant parm. Photo by Kat.

Laura’s guess: BW’s tuna dish. Photo by Kat.

Today, post workout, we have to gather our things, organize, repack what we unpacked. We’ll say goodbye to our amazing home here, and the beautiful island of Capri.

Time for a boat ride. At least, for my shaky system, it’s a short one. And by mid-afternoon we’ll be on Sorrento.

New adventures await!

Nora

2016 Italy, Capri, Travelogues

Day Three: Capri

08/05/2016 Laura 44 Comments

We decided on a challenge. It starts with the wild ride down to Capri Town–that’s after Kat retrieves the guide from the room, and Jason googles where we’re going. BW assumes I knew how to get there. I never know how to get anywhere! Honestly, I can’t even remember the name of the palace. I believe it was built by Tiberius. So that’s a clue.

BW: But you wrote about it!

NR: Over a year ago. Plus, this involves directions of some sort.

Shoulda brought my compass.

In any case, Jason finds things relating to Tiberius and comes up with Villa Jovis.

Yes, that’s it!

Kat comes back with the guide, and we’re off.

The day is beautiful, the views stunning. But I can’t really look at them as we wind down, just slicking past cars winding up. Then the madness that is Capri Town. Throngs of people, skinny roads leading to skinny roads. BW and I remember we have to take a skinny road, and steps are involved.

We wander, and it feels wrong, just wrong that I need to pass all these shops without a peek inside. Farrogamo, Pucci, Piano, and oh, oh, Armani. It stings a bit, but we have a mission.

We don’t find the road we’re after, but we find another, and finally a little sign with an arrow for Villa Jovis.

We climb, hike up the skinny road, haul up the narrow steps. Make turns, up, up, and yes, finally, I remember the area. We’ve converged onto the route we’d taken before. I remember that sweeping view over white walls and red tiles to the blue sea. Pretty gardens on the right. A big fig tree, red tomatoes, lemon trees, long rivers of yellow lantana.

Capri from road to Villa Jorvis. Photo by BW.

Up, up, up. Garden walls and fancy iron doors showing long shady colonnades into lovely homes. It would be an amazing daily hike to live here, but what a reward.

We pass a gate, and Kat and I both exclaim and stop. Inside the lovely garden is the biggest hibiscus flower we’ve ever seen. Big as a dinner plate and perfect and pink. She starts to take a picture through the gate, and we hear a loud click. The lady of the house steps out, invites us to come in and take the picture. This is so sweet and kind. The plant blooms for a month every year, she tells us. She’s obviously, and justifiably proud of her garden.

On we go, up, up, up. There are some benches built into the wall, often in shade for a reprieve, and so many beautiful distractions along the hike. That blue sea with the white boats gliding, the rugged rise of cliffs, the stunning gardens and the deep Capri green of cypress. And the scents, the lemon, the flowers, the pine.

We pass through a little area with a shop, a market on one side, a little restaurant on the other. BW and I had pizza and wine there last trip on the way down from the ruins.

The way is long and steep, and this time narrow little carts–skinnier than golf carts–rumble by going up or down. There’s barely room for them and hikers to pass. And oh, my quads are starting to feel it!

The estimated time on the sign where we began was 40 minutes. I’m sure it took us all that, and some more. But we reach a point where we can see it, the biscuit colored walls of what had been the emperor’s massive villa, built primarily by slave labor, and those slaves had to haul the supplies up, up, up the route we’ve just hiked carrying no more than a couple backpacks.

Still, we’re not there yet. More steps, more steep road, more gorgeous views. And a lot of sweat.

I see two men–golden hair–doing this same hike. One of them is wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Who would dress like that for a hike on a hot, sunny, summer day? Why isn’t he dripping with sweat?

Kat, Jason, Nora at Villa Jorvis. Photo by BW.

And at last we’re there. The guardian of the gate explains to us–in Italian, where we can see Sorrento, Vesuvius, and on the other side Napoli. I look down–for a moment–and the steep drop, the cliffs, the courageous trees that cling to the rock, and the deep blue water.

Much better to look out than down.

More steps! We climb up to walk where emperors, slaves, servants, dignitaries, all long dead walked. Walls of brick and stone, open to the sky, wide chambers, cool from those stones. And arguably the best views on the island so high up. We go all the way to the top, onto a flat wide roof for more views and photos, for the glorious breeze. It’s all more than worth the hike, and there’s a satisfaction knowing just how high we climbed.

Challenge met!

The way down is a lot quicker and easier–though it pings the hamstrings a bit now and then.

Along the way we see a cat lounging in the shade. None of us have ever seen his like. Leopard spotted, so,so handsome, with pale, clear green eyes. Eerie green. The cat is pleased to be scratched and petted by Jason, turning his head, flopping over, stretching out. Deigning in his cat way to allow our attention and admiration. Until he’s done with us and rises to walk away and wash.

Down and down, and we stop at a pretty bar/restaurant overlooking the sea. All shady with little tables and chairs–chairs with cushions! We’ve earned those cushions, and a refreshing beverage. And gelato!

I opt for a mimosa and strawberry gelato. Just marvelous.

Down and down again after a lovely respite into the crowds in town. Around and around to the cab stand, and the mad ride up. The driver chats some, and all I can think is: No! Don’t talk. Don’t become distracted. It’s a really long way down!

But we make it, head up to our room.

Time for another refreshing drink. I have over 18,000 steps on my Fitbit. A banner day! And it isn’t over.

Later, after a rest, we clean up, fancy up a bit for our dinner here at the hotel. We have a lovely table by the pool side where the billowy white curtains are pulled back. It’s dining in and out at the same time, with a view of another beautiful sunset.

The food’s plentiful, the service first rate. A bottle of red, trays of lovely bread. Starters–just some salad for me. I get the sea bass–mmmm–and as I don’t like spinach once you cook it, I split mine between BW and Kat. Give Jason my tomatoes (which I only like cooked into sauce!) My fish is perfect, the wine is smooth, soft, the meal slow and easy as it should be.

They bring the cheese cart. I mean to say no, but am talked into trying just a bit. More lovely. Then there’s some little treat–I taste coffee and berries and chocolate. And dessert! I order something with peach and cream and a thin, crunchy cookie. I can’t eat half of it, but it’s wonderful. BW agrees as he eats what I can’t. Then they bring two trays of little sweets. Oh no, more! I can do one bite, of something rich with blueberry.

We all groan our way upstairs. And do a short stretch for those hard-worked muscles.

It’s near midnight before I give it up after a long, full day packed with sights, the smell of flowers and lemons that is Capri, the rich greens, the blue sea, the tumbling cliffs, the crowds, the movement, the sweat, the food and wine.

I sleep late for me–7:30–and the day is again perfect. We’re spending it lazy–though Kat and I did a challenging workout. It’s time for massages as a reward. And I’m tagging on a facial just because. We may do some more walking on our last full day here. Or just sit and look.

Maybe, just maybe, I’ll work for an hour or so. We’ll just have to see what the day brings.

Nora

Note from Laura: Bonus photos from Kat! Mouthwatering melon and prosciutto and the tiles from shopping on the first day.

Kat's tiles from shopping. Photo by Kat. — Kat’s tiles from shopping. Photo by Kat.

2016 Italy, Capri, shopping, Travelogues

Day Two: Capri

08/04/2016 Laura 27 Comments

There’s nothing like a long, sunny, breezy day to mark the first full day of vacation.

But the first day had a focused purpose–at least for me and Kat.

Shopping!

There’s surely no lack of opportunity for that mission here, and the August sales are in swing–so all the better. Plus for me, it’s my golden opportunity to scoop up gifts and cross off that Christmas list in high summer.

Still, my first purchase is for me alone.

We wandered into a shop, such pretty colors, pretty shells. And what do I spy but a gorgeous compass. It spoke to me even before I equated it with the Guardian trilogy, Sawyer and Capri. I could see it on a shelf in my library or my office, so treated myself.

As much as a treat was the handsome shopkeeper who flirts outrageously, singing straight into my eyes. That’s a trait I’ve noted in Italian men particularly. How they look right into your eyes–it works!

We wander more, and come upon the striking pottery in a kind of open air shop where I’ve purchased before. I recognize the owner, tell him I used a platter I bought from him only a few days before. He’s gracious, talkative, obviously proud of his wares. I don’t need another platter or bowl, I really, really don’t. But . . . The one with lemons is so cheerful! And the little matching bowl and serving set. And I love this spaghetti bowl, and this one.

Plus he takes my hand, kisses it. What can I do?

He’ll, he assures me, pack all my pieces up very, very well and ship.

The men have deserted us, so we hit a few more shops, and now I’m back on mission. No more for me, it’s Christmas in Capri. And yes, I remember this shop where I found several gifts last time. And do so again, now with Kat’s help.

What Jason found on his own exploration. Photo by j a-b — Photo by j a-b

A few more shops, meet up with the men, separate again because we’re not done!

Well, maybe I can have one more thing because that scarf is absolutely delicious.

More than anything, it’s the cheer and delight of the shopkeepers, the saturation of colors, the clever displays that draw you in. It’s just happy.

We walk and walk. Settle on a pretty restaurant where we can sit outside, enjoy some wine and pasta. And more gifts from the shop right across the narrow street. There the shopkeeper–with beautiful gray eyes–flirts and chats. He has his worktable right there, so customers can watch him make his jewelry, and even, he tells me, give him suggestions. He’ll make a pair of earrings for me while I have lunch!

Okay!

And lunch is lovely. There is no pasta as fresh, no wine as soft as in Italy. I don’t even have room for my daily gelato after.

More walking, more shopping bags, and a return to the hotel where the men take naps. And I take out my little book, make my gift notes. Nearly done there! It’ll be an Italian Christmas for my pals this year.

Kat and I are made of sterner stuff. We need a few supplies from a market, so head out to find one. And find a purse I don’t need but just want, a few gifts to be crossed off her list. The crowds have thinned by this time, so it’s a little treat to see locals walking home from work, or marketing.

We do our own marketing, and wind our way back. A few words with the gray-eyed craftsman as he stands outside his shop–it was a good day, he tells me. He hopes I had the same.

And a return to the potter where Kat’s debating over some tiles. She’ll make a little table or a pot holder for her kitchen. He shows her several designs of four tiles, how they can be turned to make different pretty patterns. She buys two sets of four, and I can’t wait to see what my clever girl does with them.

Then it’s back home again, a glass of champagne on the terrace with BW, the making of loose plans for the next day. And for me, a swim with Paltrow. The water’s warm and soft, and two gulls perch on our roof, chatting with each other.

We’re all so happy and relaxed we decide to have dinner right here, on the terrace. Another drink, and we enjoy a gorgeous sunset. All pink and gold as the sun turns into a red ball that sinks, sinks, shrinks, shrinks, then slides away into soft, soft light.

A lovely meal, a flickering candle and four contented travelers.

I’m out before eleven, up at my usual six to another lovely day.

We’ve got a serious hike planned for later, but I want a workout first to tune me up.

Nora

2016 Italy, Capri, Travelogues

Day One: Capri

08/03/2016 Laura 27 Comments

I’m writing this on a gorgeous morning on the terrace, enjoying light breezes and a view of pretty blue water.

If you can sit here and not say ahhh, you have some serious issues.

But first, we had to get here.

We left Monday evening for an 8 hour plus flight. Happily I slept through about half of it. Even more happily it was pretty smooth for this unenthusiastic flier. Once we land, we shuffle through Customs, then are loaded into a van for the wild drive through Naples. As on my first trip here, this part is mostly a blur. Pretty buildings, soft pinks and bright whites, outrageous traffic, lots of tunnels, zigging and zagging to the docks. So many boats! Big ones, small ones, sail boats, yachts.

We’re unloaded, then reloaded onto a boat. I like looking at boats. I don’t much like being on one–but you gotta get there. The water’s steely blue, and mists swirl around Vesuvius. Rugged cliffs rise high, topped by deep green. It’s beautiful, even if my system’s saying: Please stop this!

Then there it is, the rise of rocks, the boats circling, the pretty marina.

Unload, reload into another van for the even wilder ride up, up, up to our hotel.

The roads are skinny as a snake and just as sinuous. It seems impossible that two cars can pass, but they do. Sweeping up, snaking up, and now my system is shouting: What is happening?? Make it stop!

Water, gorgeous water, far, far below on one side of the narrow, ribboning road, cliffs or buildings on the other, and cars pass with a coat of paint to spare at careless speed. A bus! You have to be kidding me. No way a bus can–but it does, squeaks right by.

We arrive–at last–about the same time a couple groups from a cruise ship disembark at about the same spot. Crowds of people, lots of noise. We wind through to the lobby–blissfully quiet, and best of all, it doesn’t move!

Our suite’s not ready, but we’re taking straight up to another–a kind of luxurious holding pen where we can sit out on the terrace in sun or shade, take a breath. Look out at the views. Water, the fascinating tumble of buildings running down the fall of land, climbing up the rise of it.

We all end up napping. I stretch out on a lounge chair under an umbrella, put my hat over my face, and go out for a good solid hour. Maybe more as I can’t check the time. My watch battery died on the way to the airport. I wake hungry and refreshed, decide to leave my sleeping family and go for a walk.

It’s so pretty, and more Capri is so damn happy. Bustling with people, shops and more shops lining the winding roads, colorful wares displayed, and that wonderful European mix of languages and accents. I don’t walk far as I haven’t oriented myself yet, but it feels good to move, to be out and about for a bit. It feels even better when I buy myself a gelato.

Mmmmm.

I’m tempted to shop, but it’s so nice just to walk in the sunlight with my gelato. I wander back, work off the gelato by taking the stairs back up where Jason and BW are awake, and Kat’s still down for the count.

We’re taken to our room, which is dedicated to Gwyneth Paltrow. BW and I stayed here before, and I remember fondly the huge outdoor space, the two-level terrace with breathless views, with shrubs and flowers, and a pretty little pool. Since we were here last they’ve painted a very cool picture of Paltrow on the bottom of the pool.

We unpack what we think we’ll need as we’re only on Capri for four days before we move on. Jason’s and Kat’s adjoining room has a cool little pool on a bedroom terrace. We’re going to be very happy here. Why not start the happy with a glass of champagne on the terrace? That’s what I’m talking about.

Later, we walk to a restaurant BW and I remember for its good food and good service. We weren’t disappointed. A bottle of wine, pizza for me and Jason, pasta for BW and Kat. I ask the waiter, who’s already amused us, what is the dessert of the day. He says he can’t tell me until I finish my pizza. LOL.

I actually can’t finish it, though I give it a good try–and it’s delish. But he does allow me dessert. I get lemon gelato, and nearly weep with joy.

A lovely walk back as night’s fallen, and the lights gleam.

I think to check into the world before bed, with my tablet. But just conk.

Slept a solid eight, and woke up at six. The views are just as lovely, and I can hear a dog barking, barking somewhere. Kat comes out, and as she’s the cleverest of the clever, sets up her little DVD machine and monitor. We do a vicious little workout on the terrace–straight cardio to get the blood moving. And a nice yoga session after the stretch it all out again.

BW came out for the pool, and is now bragging he swam with Gwyneth.

Now my gang’s down at breakfast. I may take a swim with Gwyn myself before I get ready for a happy day of wandering, shopping, seeing sites, and whatever else Capri offers.

Nora

cooking, grandkids, Nora at home, The Garden

High Summer

07/31/2016 Laura 22 Comments

I love it. Bring on the heat! And we’ve had plenty of it the last week or two as July smolders its way to August.

These hot summer days and evenings have been busy around here. Less than a week after I unpacked from RWA, we had our annual summer party. That means a full day of food prep, assisted by my Kat and Laura with BW and Jason out in the swelter setting up canopies, tables, hauling out the big coolers.

Sunday morning means more setting up and setting out, finishing up. By early afternoon, we’re packed with people inside and out–so no, making ten pounds of potato salad wasn’t overkill.

20160723_152441 — Scarily clean potatoes for the salad.

It’s a fine tradition my parents started decades ago, so I think of them a lot while I cook and stir, while I chat with Kat and Laura as they chop and peel, when I glance out the window and see my boy up on the garden wall with a blue tarp and bungie cords.

20160723_142837 — The first tray of deviled eggs.

Sunday night and Monday are clean it up and break it down, and another summer highlight has come and gone. Time moves.

Then it’s back to work–current book all day, proofing galleys in the evening. I have a goal to reach on the wip before we leave for vacation (yay!) in less than a week. Friday, I hit the mark–just in time as I’ve ignored pretty much everything else.(Except my workouts.) And I hit it in time to hang a little while with Kayla who’s pretty excited as she’ll turn 14 the next day.

I picked my first tomato, which brought me ridiculous pleasure. I don’t even eat tomatoes, but do a little happy dance as I hold it in my hand, smell it. More are ripening on the vine, and there are lots of pretty little peppers growing beside them. I hope our housesitters make good use of them while we’re gone.

On Saturday, Kayla’s having her party here–a swim party with girlfriends–so she’s pumped. Pumped enough she walks up the hill a couple hours before the party just as I–just showered from a workout–head out to weed. (Something that’s been neglected.) Happy birthday, my baby girl. I still remember when we put her a car seat that I got from https://hifivebaby.com/best-convertible-car-seat-for-small-cars/ for the first time. She was so little. She points out my little vase of flowers have faded, and I need to pick more.

So I do.

She looks so pretty, and I swear she gets taller if I glance away for two minutes. I hear her helping her Grandda with something while I start down the garden, filling my big tub with weeds. I get one tub filled when the skies open up.

She’s annoyed with the storm–and the forecast of more–but it doesn’t dampen her anticipation–cake, presents, girlfriends! When her mom gets here it’s decorations, all following Kayla’s choice of beach theme, and very cool cakes. One for Kayla, and one for her little brother Colt and Grandda who both have birthdays that hit while we’re away. Colt will be six in about a week. Grandda will be older than that!

We all pitch in, and when the sun comes back out, I go back to weeding. Girls come, and one of Logan’s pals invited to keep him company in the midst of all that female. As I weed, filling a second tub–I can hear that distinctly girl sound–chatter and laughter, all so high and bright–echoing in the pool house. It’s such happy sound, young, uninhibited. After the gardens been put back to rights, I reward myself with a glass of wine and go out to sit by the water feature. It’s steamy out, after the rain, but there’s a little breeze there, and the water’s making its pretty music, the woods are so, so green. My Rose of Sharon are blooming beautifully. And the sound of happy girls makes more music.

Parker comes out to lie at my feet, and just sitting there after this intensely busy week, I’m almost stupidly content.

Even as I feel another storm coming, it’s all good. I won’t have to water my pots today, and the girls have had a good couple of hours of swim time. They need to eat, have cake.

And finally, especially for an almost six-year-old boy, presents. Colt’s happy, Logan and his pal are happy watching the big screen, and Kayla and her girls make their circle. I love how they hug after every gift is opened, and I hope, so much hope, they’ll all remember this unity, this affection, that it carries through as they grow up into women. How lovely it is to watch this ritual, to see its potential as the rain falls and thunder grumbles outside.

I’ve just spent a week with girlfriends, so I know that potential realized. I want that for my baby girl and her sweet friends. In contrast, Logan and his pal Spencer hang out, glued to some game on the TV, pretty much ignoring–stoically–the female action. I know that bond as well–I grew up with four brothers, had two sons, after all. That’s special, too, that can last and form circles.

We all need our circle.

Now, today, the house holds quiet. I’ve got a workout to do, tubs of books to sign. Then it’s packing. No high heels or fancy duds needed. It’s vacation time!

I’ll be blogging journals, as always, starting next week. [Note from Laura: you’ll have to stop by on Tuesday to see where Nora’s gone. ]

Enjoy these hot and steamy days (or the chilly ones for those of you in the Southern Hemisphere). Time moves fast, so appreciate the moments, and those who share them with you.

Nora

Conversation, Cranky Publicist

The way to Nora’s heart

07/25/2016 Laura 19 Comments

It’s always a pleasure (for Nora and me) when a baby comes to a signing. We’re veteran child herders so we know that waiting in line with a tired or hungry baby is not always fun for the parent (or grandparent or aunt or uncle or friend) in charge of the baby. But it’s a welcome respite for us.

Many times I’ll see the baby back in line and get a chance for a cuddle. Then, of course, I simply HAVE to show off for Nora who gives me the stink-eye for getting there first.

But I’ll admit Nora’s a baby whisperer and even the crankiest little one calms down when Nana Nora holds him or her. (Though some of them are actually eyeing her jewelry to get something shiny in their fist — or mouth. They are fast and strong and rarely give up without a complaint.)

We ran into two little beauties a couple weeks back. Taylor came with her mom, her aunt, her grandma and great grandma to the Fall into the Story brunch. It was a busy day, but I did snap a couple photos of the four generations with their cameras, and one — a little blurry — with mine.

20160710_113502 (2)

Fortunately, our good pal Maureen McGowan — a TTP regular and a wonderful photographer — took a few of Nora with the baby for me.

Then there was the adorable Isabelle who brought her mom Katie to the Literacy signing on July 13. Mom waited on the huge line for book and a photo but Miss Isabelle had an agenda of her own. She acquiesced when Nora took her in her arms — for all of 10 seconds. Then she let us all know she was not best pleased and she wanted to be with her mom — NOW!

Mightily annoyed baby, very amused Nora. (And mom Katie)

Fortunately Mom knew what Isabelle really wanted and the next time we looked over she was having a bottle.

We also get to meet some very smart and patient older kids who hang at the signings with their family, let me take their photos and usually walk out with a book (or two) of their own.

It’s always a huge pleasure to know that reading families seed the next generation as early as they can. I think it would be great fun to share those new readers with seasoned vets here on the blog. If you have any photos of your kids or grandkids with Nora, send them to me at LMReeth@gmail.com. Any if you have any anecdotes about their reading habits, please let me know. I hope to share some more photos in the coming weeks.

Laura

Excerpt

45 days and counting…

07/22/2016 Laura 33 Comments

Apprentice in Death cover

I know the Apprentice in Death excerpt included in the last Nora’s News only whetted the thirst, but it didn’t quench it. (Let’s be really honest though: for many readers the entire book doesn’t quench the thirst. <g>) So I thought you’d like a little bit more on this hot Friday in July.

If you need a refresher, the prologue is here.

And without any further comment, here is Chapter 1.

Apprentice in Death will be released on September 6.

You’re welcome.

Laura

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The official blog for Nora Roberts and J.D. Robb readers