The day before we were departing for Italy, I woke up with a stiff back, barely able to move. We decided that we would simply go to the walk in clinic and get some muscle relaxers, which would surely be the answer to my pain. As I waited for Nick to get ready, I suddenly felt very weak. I called my paramedic boyfriend down to see what was wrong and with a few checks of my seriously low blood pressure, and a worried look after not being able to find my radial pulse, he decided to call an ambulance. 9 hours later, we left the emergency room with some painkillers (see picture) and heart monitor sticker marks that I still can’t get off. It turns out I got positive results on all the tests I took, and with that in mind I told Nick we were definitely still leaving the next day.
Generally, before a trip there is a sort of countdown, or pre trip excitement that occurs. We didn’t really have the time for that this time around, so before we knew it we were setting foot onto Italian soil. Ideally, we wanted to spend a good chunk of time in the south of Italy, where there are fewer tourists. This fact was confirmed in our minds as we sat on the plane and made the conclusion that everyone surrounding us was either headed home, or to visit family. Trying to stretch our Canadian dollar, we had to cut out most of our southern itinerary, but still made a point of stopping in the Calabrian city of Cosenza.
We checked into a B&B in a warm local house, before setting out to get some food. Our first official Italian meal was eaten when Nick emerged from the airport with two arancini (rice balls) with a huge grin on his face.
Delicious in their own way, (I prefer my sisters, personally) we were starving by the time it rolled around to dinnertime. We both knew, me from previous experience, and Nick from research, that dinnertime in Italy is more like bedtime to us, but what we didn’t expect was that the entire town would stay shut down until well past 8. As we sat on a bench with our feet anxiously tapping away, we decided to just grab a panzerotti from the only place open in the city. We left utterly satisfied and fell asleep just as our host family sat down to dinner.
After a breakfast with some marmalade made by our hosts mamma, from her garden, we set off on the train. Our first scheduled stop took an eight-hour plane ride, 1 shuttle, 2 trains, 2 taxis, and two buses to arrive at. The last bus had me searching for anything resembling a bag to clutch as I tried desperately to not let my gaze break from the horizon. I studied that horizon harder than I had any subject at school, but I still had the urge to kiss the ground when we arrived at our destination, Positano.
Positano is truly a beautiful sight. Buildings that alone, don’t have immense character, but together, painted in pastels and built into the side of cliffs, sit like ancient stones during the day, and sparkle beautifully at night.
Walking through the streets, which are all at an angle resembling a serious gym-goers treadmill, I feel like everyone here is smiling, which could be due to a refreshing cone of gelato, or could be a new arrival who is happy to be off the roller coaster which brought them to arrive at such a unique city.
Although very, very touristy, Positano is good at what it is, which is eye candy. It’s not the most authentic Italian experience, but we got to stuff ourselves with food (7 gelato so far and counting) and take our first dips in the Mediterranean ocean on a beautiful day.