I didn’t know before my trip down the Amalfi coast that there is a right and a wrong way to hang your washing on your line. And if your line is in view of the whole neighbourhood as they can be in the towns of Naples then heaven forbid if you muck it up. Listening to the ramblings and stories of our tour guide on this particular trip to Amalfi made it surprisingly enjoyable. I used to let the monotonous stumbling of English words drift over me as I imagined I was a local in these parts and on my way to get some groceries or to visit an old friend. But there was something about Maria, yes I’m sure it was Maria, as she told of how the women would let a bucket down off the balcony with some coins in the bottom so that the day’s bread could be popped in by a delivery boy. How you could look at the beautiful villas of the rich clinging to the cliffs with their million dollar views and easily snap your fingers and say ‘But do they really like it?”.
I imagined being in a little two seater zipping around the treacherous roads, through the narrowest of lanes where the sides of buildings have been nicked by drivers of cars too busy looking at the amazing scenery instead of where they were going. Lemons are grown in every inch of soil, they hang heavy with fruit dangling over the roads so you could reach up and pick a ripe, wrinkled one if you were quick enough. You just have to visit this part of the world. You must eat in this part of the world. Even if it’s just a gelato while looking at all the sun bakers…
