This is the first installment of a travelogue by retired English teacher/librarian Marguerite Kirkpatrick of Russellville. She traveled with one of
her daughters, Shannon Reade, and Shannon’s family.
As the plane lifts into the sky from the Nashville runway, the great adventure begins. Shannon and Wes have spent months researching and planning this
trip to Italy. They have reserved a villa on the Amalfi Coast and an apartment in Rome; Shannon has created an itinerary for each day of travel; Maggie
has her BIG suitcase and her camera bag; Will has his Kroger sack; Megan will meet us in Rome. I am grateful to be tagging along, but can I keep pace
with three young people, a Pilates instructor, and a long
distance runner?
In the Atlanta airport Will’s military ID allows us entry to the Delta Sky Miles VIP lounge, where we enjoy snacks and juice and feel special. Will is special, as are all our military men and women. Soon it is time.
After a nine-hour flight, we touch down in Rome at 8:30 a.m., May 27. At the Airport Hilton, we have breakfast, wait for our rooms to be ready for
check-in, decide that is a waste of precious touring time, and so decide to forego a change of clothes to be on our way and begin our exploration of
this famous city.
A forty-minute shuttle ride takes us into town where, after an hour’s walk, we finally arrive in St. Peter’s Square within the walled Vatican City. The
Square is teeming with people of every nationality-long lines waiting for tickets to St. Peter’s Basilica and the Vatican Museums, hawkers selling
everything from guided tours to trinkets and souvenirs of this world-famous site as well as the beloved Pope John Paul II, whose beatification took
place on May 1. Hanging from several of the buildings are huge banners bearing his likeness. We stand in awe in the huge piazza designed by Bernini in
the 17th century. In the center stands an Egyptian obelisk with a history dating from its origins in Greece before Christ to its removal to
Rome in 37 A.D. where it stood at the Circus Maximus during the time of Nero. It was moved to its present location in 1586. Flanking the obelisk are
two huge fountains. The Basilica, papal apartments and Vatican Museums surrounding the piazza contain 248 columns and 88 pilasters. One hundred forty
over-life-size statues of the saints around the cornice stand guard over the Square.
First on the agenda is climbing the steps to the Dome of St. Peter’s Basilica, a privilege for which we must pay a fee of seven euros. Privilege? I’m a
little dubious. After all, there is an elevator! Steps that start out wide begin to narrow as we ascend. About halfway up, we are given a reprieve-time
to wander around the gallery at the base of the dome above the Basilica floor and take in the wonder of the huge, beautiful, vividly colored mosaics
that line the walls on this level. We look down on the largest interior of any Christian church in the world and up at the highest dome in the world.
But our rest is short-lived; once again we begin the ascent. The way narrows; the pie-shaped steps are steep, following the curvature of the dome; our
hands slide along the slanting yellow brick walls of this engineering marvel designed so many centuries ago by Michelangelo.
Three hundred twenty steps later we emerge onto a narrow walkway that surrounds the roof of the Dome and provides a 360-degree view of one of the most
exciting and interesting cities in the world. Soon we begin the descent. When we reach the bottom, our legs are wobbly from the exertion, but we hurry
into the Basilica; however, it is late, and there is little time to explore, to stand at the altar below which tradition holds that St. Peter is
buried, to go to the place where Michelangelo’s Pieta rests behind protective glass, to wonder at the immensity, art, sculpture and beautiful
architecture of this place. No, the guards are herding everyone out. So we must go.
Leaving the famous Square, we walk, walk, and walk some more, looking for the perfect ristaurante to sit outside and enjoy the lovely Roman twilight
and cool evening. We choose one near the Campo de’ Fiori Piazza and order first an antipasto: two trays of cheeses, olives, prosciutto, and pita
breads. Several offerings make up the second course-seafood pasta, mushroom and truffle pasta, Margherita pizze. Maggie at 17 has her first small glass
of sparkling wine, decorated with a strawberry on the rim. A taste of lemoncello, a liqueur famous in this country where huge lemons are grown on the
terraced hills of Southern Italy, provides the finale.
The piazza is full of flower stalls, musicians, people eating and drinking at the many outdoor ristaurantes. We linger a short time, but hours of
travel and touring are rapidly taking their toll, and we have a long walk to the bus stop for the Hilton shuttle. We barely make the last bus; in fact
Wes has to sprint ahead and hold the shuttle for us. Ahhhh! So nice to have a hot shower and a soft bed…
Saturday, May 28
Breakfast in the hotel executive lounge includes-among offerings of cheeses, prosciutto, fresh fruits, breads and eggs-aloe vera yogurt. Shannon says
we’ll be prepared for interior sunburn. Lugging our suitcases, we walk to the nearby light rail station and board a train to Garibaldi Stazion, a huge
busy train station with many tracks, hordes of people, and no security. Will has my back, walks behind me always, wary, protecting me from
pickpockets.
From Garibali we travel to Naples and another busy station. Wes and Will study the schedule board, decide which track, buy tickets, and we board. Soon
after leaving the station and after studying the route map above the door, our trusty guides, with much hand gesturing to the other passengers and
repeated use of the word “Praiano,” decide we are on the wrong train. We jump off at the next station, no easy feat considering the amount of luggage
we carry. A short wait on a deserted platform brings the train to Sorrento and once again we’re on our way. Soon the terrain reveals groves of lemon
trees growing under huge net-covered pergolas, with lemons the size of grapefruits! Another common sight is colorful laundry hanging from every balcony
in the little towns we rumble past.
In Sorrento we switch to a Sita bus, a mode of travel that will carry us to many destinations and over many harrowing drives for the next week. A
two-hour journey takes us along the famous Amalfi Drive-a “ribbon of concrete” pasted to the side of a mountain-past gleaming white houses marching up
the mountainside, red rooftops and cobalt blue swimming pools miraculously clinging to the hillside below the highway. A thousand feet below, the
sparkling turquoise Mediterranean spreads out toward the horizon. The road is a succession of hairpin curves before which the bus driver toots his horn
to avoid head-on collisions with on-coming buses. Mopeds and little cars zip around us at break-neck speeds. Our guidebook describes it thus: “Amalfi
Drive-the road of 1,001 turns-threads a string of towns that look like pearls in a necklace.” John Steinbeck wrote that it is “a road carefully
designed to be a little narrower than two cars side by side.”
Finally arriving in Praiano, we meet our landlord Antonio, who takes us to our beautiful villa perched on the side of the hill (there is no flat land
on the Amalfi Coast!) boasting three levels, beautiful tile floors, lovely tile bathrooms, three terraces, and a breathtaking view of the
Mediterranean. The villa is 93 steps down from the little narrow street. Ninety-three steps UP, as well!
As the sun is setting, we head down the hillside to the beach. The route is a series of narrow steps and narrow passageways to the street below and
then more steps to the beach level. In a small cove, we find three ristaurantes with twinkling white lights but few people, for dinner doesn’t begin in
Italy until 9 p.m. or after. Little boats of varying colors bob in the harbor. It is a postcard setting.
Walking back up the hill, we stop at what is to become “our little grocery,” Tut Tutti, to purchase supplies for a delicious supper of pasta and
caprese salad. At the grocery Shannon asks for basil. The clerk runs down the street and returns with basil. From someone’s garden??? Will is happy to
find they have cherries, thus begins his love affair with Italy’s sweet cherries.
To be continued….