Goods in hand we decided to try again to get one last taste of the heavenly focaccia from our first night in Rome meal. And we made sure we walked the extra half-mile back to the place before the closed for siesta. Arrived, it was open, we were drooling. We even had the same waitress who knew exactly what we were talking about when we ordered famed focaccia. “solo notte” was the reply. We were confused. “only nighttime.” She settled our confusion. It was enough to make us, well me, start crying on the spot. But I held it together and ordered caprese and a frittata in stead. It was so disappointing.
Our leisurely pace soon turned frantic as we realized the next train left in 20 min and if we really hurried, and used all of our positive thinking powers, we might just make it (Better with my time management skills than some, I knew we’d never make it no matter how positive we were thinking). So off to the metro, up to the Termini train station, miss train, buy tickets for the next one, and spend the next 40 minutes wandering from “info desk” to “tourist help desk” to try and figure out what “NO POSTO GUARENTO”, which was printed on our tickets meant. I was seriously amazed at how everyone we asked seemed unwilling (tourist desk woman who spoke perfect English but said –no train information here), or unable (language barrier), to help us. The last man said, “ Just get on the train. Ask on train.”
So we got on another high-speed train and we figured out soon enough what NO POSTO GUARENTO means. Basically they over sell the train by about 10%. So most of the passengers have assigned seats, but those of us with NO POSTO have to wander the train cars in search of an empty seat and hope that no one came to claim it. It was a little nerve racking to be so clueless about how it all worked. Ian found an empty seat, asked the girls sitting near it if it was taken, and they both got up and left the seats. I think they mistakenly assumed they were our seats. Their loss.
We were feeling pretty comfy in our seats as the train pulled away from the station. But as more and more people came down the isles and kept kicking squatters out of their seats we got a little nervous. Eventually a man kicked Ian out of his seat and he got to stand for the hour and 10 minute trip to Naples. But don’t’ feel bad for him- he was entertained by Avitar on someone’s laptop for the trip.
Arriving in Naples we had to find the next train to Sorrento. In all of my advanced reading and research I somehow missed the fact that the “train” to Sorrento is actually a Metro train with 36 stops!! And the train was packed with all kinds of rowdy Napolites so we enjoyed the ride standing until the 22nd stop. The scenery slowly changed from heavily spray painted everything with hanging laundry in between to glimpses of the sea and terracotta roofs. (but the graffiti was always lurking.)
Mario Andretti has nothing on the SITA bus drivers. The roads they drive on are INSANE! Although we could see what was out our window, something Ian and his fear of heights was grateful for, we knew we were on some very curvy, sheer cliff-side roads – in the rain !! I am not one who gets motion sickness, but when our bus came to a stop, I was pretty happy to get off.
Into the room and off to the nearest restaurant for our 10:30pm dinner. Right on schedule! Ian was in heaven with another seafood dish which I was happy to observe disappear from the sidelines. Back to the room (3 times the size of the closet we just left) where we fell asleep to sound of waves crashing on the rocks below.
Ciao
Ciao
The Loader
The Washer
