Daisy Chains, Lizards and Turd-on-a-Boot
We drank wine and ate pizza and wandered around the little town watching couples eat icecream (a national sport). We wandered in to a café for an awkward encounter with an espresso and a barman, and mistimed lunchtime siesta so didn’t get fed that afternoon- every single place shuts down, even the beggars know to find a place for a snooze. It was all far too peaceful and relaxed so we headed out for a ride to Amalfi and walked up and down ancient steps and photographed old tourists by the water, and visited cafes just so we could use the toilets and run away again. Sat on the steps eating 1 Euro slices of pizza and mocking the café- dwellers. However, my laughter quickly faded when I went for a walk up a hill and stepped in a large pile of human turd. It stayed on my boot and made me stink all day.
We weaved our way back home, only to find…
…an overbearing influx of ‘Family Manders and their Italian Tour 09’- a large bevy of German campervanners intent on having a mini Beer Fest in our garden campsite! They had homemade stickers proclaiming themselves on the vans, and they sat up drinking all night with their kids running riot, and then at 2am the disco-ferry started up with the worst live singer I have ever heard- like Celine Dion, 3 octaves lower, on some form of acid. He was so bad the audience seemed to whoop him every time he stopped.
We went for a farewell drink at the local bar where we sat on the terrace next to a German coach driver who was swilling beer and lonely. He was calling his coach mate, who was asleep in another country and not pleased.
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Say hello. It makes us happy. Ta, Nicky. x