This is a story in three parts, mainly because that’s the way the trip was planned. We scored cheap frequent flyer miles for business class seats to Rome flying through Helsinki. Bonus points were issued to the chief accountant because flying with FinnAir means there were no fees. With most airlines demanding fees and fuel charges even for frequent flyer tickets, this was quite the coup. There was a five hour layover that we will never repeat. Then we were in Rome. After a ridiculously long walk through truly miles of connecting corridors, we found ourselves the airport Hilton for our first night. To our surprise, the Hilton Gold status that came with the credit card we were using gave us lounge access. By the time we arrived it was actually close to a legitimate sleeping hour. A snack and some water in the lounge, and then bed.
I’ve probably mentioned before that Tom and I have completely opposite approaches to managing jetlag. This time the schedule forced me into his method of delaying sleep until much later than my traditional crash-nap. I survived. The next morning we rented a car and headed to a lovely farm stay (agriturismo) south of Naples. We’d never been south of Rome, so we landed here for a few nights with a car in order to explore the Amalfi coast, some sea even further south, and a couple of ruins including Pompei.
The rental was a spectacular location. What we didn’t realize at the time of booking, though, was that it was a really popular event venue. So most days we were sent away from the pool by 5pm to accommodate the evening’s event, and that event would run until 1 or 2am and end in fireworks. We lived. We also came to know the wedding playlist of the region which always included Volare. The first night we were a bit annoyed, but we were also still quite jetlagged. By the third night we were singing along. The breakfasts were good. The weather was lovely. And the train station was about a mile away.
We drove to Pompei. Traffic was wild. The site was impressive. It was very hot for that time of year. Some of the exhibits, especially the plaster casts of the victims, were sobering. Other exhibits were replicas with the originals housed in Naples. So, the next day we took the train to Naples to see much of it again, including some wonderful mosaics.
Another day we drove to see the Greek ruins at Pasteum and then to the sea just to the south. The water is protected in a national park and it is beautiful.
Finally, we took the train to Naples again and then found the ferry to Amalfi where we hung to the side of a windy cliff with thousands of other tourists. I won’t ever need to go back. The people watching was really great, though. Tom and I took to posing selfies like the “influencers” packing the region, and picked off a few laughs from the older folks. (A future story will be about accidentally turning Tom into a selfie monster.)
We stayed five nights at the farm before driving to Bari on the Adriatic side of Italy to meet with a photography tour group. I’d planned that trip before the pandemic. The trip was cancelled, then Tom decided he wanted to come too, and the trip was cancelled again. So 2022 was the year we finally made it. And that’s where things went nuts. But more about that in a few days.
I’ll be back to insert photos here and there. To be honest, I haven’t even really gone through them yet. Some of you know this story already, and others will hear all the rotten details soon. (Spoiler alert: all of the people in this story are still living, so don’t worry too much.)
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