It takes skills to drive in Italy. The highways are fast, very fast. The secondary roads are sinuous and narrow, very narrow. Markers are inexistant. Direction panels are vague. The drivers are impatient, aggressive, almost wreckless. Few yield, obey speed limits, or stay in their lane. The winding road leading to Positano is especially challenging - blind corners are negotiated by honking your presence and glancing at cliff-side mirrors. When an oncoming Italian shouted "Hey Campione (champion)!" after being cut off by JF who'd taken a fast inside curve tightly, it was a sanction of JF's Italo-worthiness. The guy has skills and a name that ends in a vowel. However, being called "hostie de clown" would have been a case for road rage.
We made our way to Amalfi where we enjoyed an impromptu concert on the steps of the Duomo by a vacationing choir.
Hubby and I had been unable to make our way to Ravello 8 years ago on account of the tourist buses blocking the main road up to the breezy town. No tourist buses this time, just incredible views and great little wine shops.
La Scala has so-so gelati but an impressive view of Ravello.
We made our way back to the villa where we found Maria, our delightful hostess, waiting for us with fresh eggs, and a bottle of her home-made limoncello (which to my pleasure, was more cello than limon).
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