![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjog-rKgHYraTNnXlcfJXCof6Igb1AgOT76QuiD0tG0k3EcHD8WHCAhwSCbXtYFOsEYEsYv2AuqAa_se-JN2qm2uLp3Mhc550knovDqmqByQ3SrfB_quw1jd3P-dJjU7SIUuG7WOFRt9bA/s320/Travels2009+2657.jpg)
I found coffee and a simple breakfast to get me started. I found my guidebook, perused a few pages and realized that most of what you do in Positano is wander around, lay on the beach or take a boat to Capri. So I did exactly that.
The town itself was quaint and small. Full of shops, cafes, hotels and don't forget the American tourists! I wandered up the hill, stopping in a few places, but nothing really caught my fancy. From here I found an empty sun-bed on the beach, gave the guy 5 Euro and basked away the affternoon. Capri could happen domani.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiJAiN5gjJQxw-2fgYXtiKI60ylKiG9KIIEno2izkNeQ4XjZ9u_aErGS6uG6v1XzM0odFryMEDp4ZBbMS8F1wJocUGEZ9J-jdSXrXJ2ca4ZLPlR7uKw3veTblGAwcGvBq-9c4r6KB6HFg/s320/Travels2009+2671.jpg)
Late in the afternoon I am awoken from a daydream by construction work and I take that as my sign I am to go elsewhere. I return to my hotel, shower and make my way to an internet cafe (which is a total rip-off by the way...6Euros for every hour) to book a room for the following night in Naples.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHL-_vuNOrOI5v09EIrYBCDe0QEXWqa1wsamTh9VK7EnPzD7mIr0sHbvhFrwTe52SHO9TP-dpr1AVIs1bEKi7q6Evu8ClVro2gti9bDVOGEQjXsmPt5fFYH1Z0keRgXQM55uO7YeUN48/s320/Travels2009+2648.jpg)
I had dinner on the bay again. With the overly attentive server who seemed to want me out of there before I even sat down. He didn't like I brought my laptop with me, but it was the only place I could get internet.
The tables all around me spoke English. And when the full moon rose over the bay, all the cameras came out. Again, I had the feeling of wanting to be elsewhere. In all my travels this was a feeling that had eluded me. Why was it, that in Italy I always felt less because I was there? Why did my experiences always seem empty? And ultimately why did I keep pushing forward in a place whose only real reward was taking a few photos to say I had been there, before grabbing my bag and running to a next destination? It was puzzling to me. In Spain I truly had learned to be 'here'. And now in Italy, 'here' was the last place I wanted to be...even with a gorgeous view of a full-moon rising.![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPR3VDaWxloQ_CRgwC06hQqNsvpG6pLnT41ZHVS-fXisyMS5Yk5YJ4o3JecLFT1Er9sEddWdMnSB1eRheizxIeQed5pDh_6YPiF07rXOUtB1erUcjcL-F8sISGs0WuOdGPXMjsAErSsxA/s320/Travels2009+2695.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPR3VDaWxloQ_CRgwC06hQqNsvpG6pLnT41ZHVS-fXisyMS5Yk5YJ4o3JecLFT1Er9sEddWdMnSB1eRheizxIeQed5pDh_6YPiF07rXOUtB1erUcjcL-F8sISGs0WuOdGPXMjsAErSsxA/s320/Travels2009+2695.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ruvvguiNKZWaxVXcPdxLdjo6FiBWHW2osulri2OqE1N8mxOEZ1JjNdnGer_l-iBSukRluidAzSknItYVB4c_Pw35lukFw_IcYcXc51K65mdzn0GsLxs1wnS8cuDm4KqEnnUr-yzNelA/s320/Travels2009+2700.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment