THE RESTLESS NATIVE:Touring Italy: My adventures in Amalfi

Once again, I spent my day off away from Naples. It came down to going to Procida (another island in the gulf, and the only island I have yet to visit) and the Amalfi Coast, which is just two hours south by ferry. My manager sealed the deal for the Amalfi Coast ? he has a friend with a hostel who would put me up for the night at no charge. (It’s good to have connections.) “I have no friends on Procida,” he said, so off to Amalfi I went!

The ferry ride down the coast was a treat. Along the way, we cruised by Capri and stopped in Sorrento and Positano. I chose to sit up on the open top deck where many other eager sightseers gathered at the rails to snap photos. The views were gorgeous! Buildings were stacked one on top of another up steep green hills, and every bit of available sand was dotted with sunbathers and brightly colored umbrellas. Plus, the water changed from the murky green found in Naples’ Porto Beverello, to a clean, clear cobalt blue.

When I arrived in Amalfi, I was greeted with a similar view, but with more umbrellas and more sunbathers! It was a short walk to the hostel (where I ran into three girls who had stayed at the hostel in Naples, just the night before) and Fillipo, the friendly manager, who warmly welcomed me. I was so proud of myself! I spoke only in Italian and, except for a few words, I felt very comfortable with my effort. He showed me to a little cubby of a room where an employee of the hostel might sleep. For me, it was perfect! It provided the privacy I’ve been craving for so long (no one to knock on “my door” at some ungodly hour to get something out of the fridge) as well as one of the softest beds I’ve slept on since arriving in Italy.

After checking in, I wandered around Amalfi and enjoyed its quaint small streets and boutiques before treating myself to a complete meal (I even had a plate of mixed cheeses) in a restaurant near the beach.

The real treat of the evening, however, was an impromptu soccer match on the sand being played by some young local boys. For the goal posts, they used trashcans and one donated flip-flop. Along the sidelines, which seemed to be unmarked but universally understood by all, sat a line of boys, heads in hands, eagerly watching each turn of the game. Also gathered along the perimeter (and perhaps this is no real surprise) was a group of girls, who at first watched with interest, but eventually got bored and formed a circle to discuss more important affairs. .In this group there was one boy (perhaps the smartest boy on the beach), who gave the girls the attention that was being stolen away by the match. He played along in their games and appeared to be a welcomed part of the gathering. (I would have loved to have seen a girl infiltrate the “boys’ club” and smash the ball around the sand with the best of them!) The boys playing in the soccer game pretended to be unaware of anything beyond the ball, but I suspect, due to the way they rolled around on the ground when injured in the fashion of many a professional player, they knew that they were the entertainment for the evening.

After dinner, I spoiled myself even more by hitting the sack before 10 p.m. What can I say? Sleep is a luxury for me. In the morning, I enjoyed a complimentary breakfast and headed for the water. The weather couldn’t have been nicer: bright blue sky and lots of sun! I am actually developing a tan. Granted, it leans more toward the trucker version than the beach babe kind, but beggars can’t be choosers.

After the beach, I showered, changed and thanked my gracious host before leaving for the port to catch the next ferry back to Napoli. As I was wandering around waiting for my ride, I heard someone call out to me and spotted Eve, a girl from Belgium who had stayed at my hostel nearly two weeks ago, approaching me. I was surprised to see her in Amalfi since I knew, from past conversations, that she was supposed to be in Turkey by now. Over iced tea at a nearby cafe, Eve explained how, on the night that Italy had won the World Cup, her purse was stolen. She lost everything. Her passport, money, iPod, camera and all her vacation photos. (I should add that she told me her whole story with a genuine smile on her face). After this stunning loss, she discovered the kindness of strangers. A day after her purse was stolen ? and thus a day since she was able to buy something to eat ? a local man bought her a sandwich and has given her a bite to eat nearly every time he has seen her since (even if all he has on hand are some potato chips). With no money for accommodations, the owner of the hostel she was staying at when she was robbed gave her a job advertising for and essentially running the hostel while he is away in England and she waits for money to arrive from home. (Personally, from the description of her duties, I think he’s getting the better end of the deal.) One way or another, she has managed to survive, and even as we sat drinking, she excused herself momentarily to recruit two wide-eyed and lost looking tourists as guests for her hostel.

Eve is one of a handful of guests who I connected with right from the beginning. Bright, warm and friendly, she’s perfect for the work that has been thrust upon her. Perhaps another reason we get along so well is because she is dating a guy from Turkey, and we were able to compare notes on what it’s like dating men from other countries. Before saying goodbye, I saw, firsthand, how wonderfully she was getting on in Amalfi. Every few minutes, someone she knew would pass by. By the time I left to catch my ferry, I had met the white knight that had fed her ? her hostel owner ? and two guests. Plus, the cafe we were sitting at gave us a discount on our bill since she was so well recognized by the staff. (Two drinks cost us a total of six euros! I hate to think what they would have cost us without the discount!) Next week, I will be seeing Eve again when she returns to my hostel for one night as she arranges for a new passport at the Belgian consulate in Naples. I can’t wait to hear how her adventure in Amalfi ends. Perhaps someone will buy her a car or adopt her into their family.

I have one last story to tell that has nothing to do with Amalfi, but I just have to get this down on the record somewhere. Monday, three Americans (two brothers and a girlfriend) arrived at the hostel. At 11 p.m. that night, one of the brothers asked for some hydrogen peroxide. When I asked what was wrong, he replied that he had a bad burn on his shoulder and that it was becoming quite painful. The burn on his shoulder was white, stretched and in the shape of a figure eight. Now here’s the shocker! He went on to explain that he’d inflicted this burn upon himself with a bottle cap, heated with a cigarette lighter! Further, he’d helped seven other people (his brother and girlfriend included) inflict this same wound upon themselves on various body parts! The obvious question: Why? Apparently, he and his two companions had had a horrible time in Prague and met five other people on a train to Naples who had had an equally horrible time. Their subsequent train ride was so enjoyable, they decided to commemorate the journey with a group branding. I asked him to explain exactly what made the trip so memorable that it deserved such an extreme reminder? “I don’t know,” he replied. “We just had an amazing time.”

Now that’s commitment! (Or perhaps he should be committed!).

Unbelievable! Now I really want to know what happened on that train! There’s never a dull moment at the hostel.

With more than two months left to go, I’m sure I’ll encounter some additional bizarre stories, but this one will be hard to top. So, until next week (or the funny farm, whichever comes first), ciao raggazzi!