The autostrade from the Villa San Giovanni ferry terminal was a dramatic improvement from the roads in Sicily. This certainly was a first-world highway and there were so many tunnels. The Italians believe in going straight at all costs – straight through hills and straight over valleys. These tunnels were vastly different from those in Sicily, well-lit. wide and airconditioned. In fact, these were some of the best tunnels we’d driven through.
With such good roads we covered ground quickly and decided to keep driving and make as bigger dent as possible into our trip to Pompeii. The countryside was mountainous, and snow had only recently fallen. Signs warning of the requirement to carry chains regularly flashed over the motorway. It was getting dark when we reached the small town of Padula where I’d found an Agritourism camping spot. These are farms that set aside space for campervans and often offer fresh produce for sale and home-cooking. We were the only campervan there and wondered if it was open. It was, we were warmly welcomed by our host and it was a perfectly adequate site for a stopover. It had been raining off and on throughout our journey and had temporarily cleared, so after many hours in the van we went for a walk into Padula. Set on a steep hillside it is a quaint town with an old-world Italian feel. Below the town at the foot of the hill a 13th UNESCO listed monastery complex splays out into the countryside. We wandered through the streets, passed occasionally by locals wrapped up warmly against the cold. It started to rain again, and heavy falls continued through the night. In a campervan rain is very loud. Then the roosters started crowing at four and the geese, goats and dogs joined in. Our peaceful night in the countryside was anything but.
We left early and drove through to Pompeii. I had read some excellent reviews about an agritourism campsite on the edge of the city and thought it might be more interesting than one of the standard tourist campsites near the Pompeii ruins. However, Google Maps had other ideas. We were sent down a narrow lane with directions to turn left into a road that was closed for works, so we had to keep going straight as there was nowhere to turn. The road kept getting narrower. Then right in front of us was a low overbridge. It looked far too low for us and being on a corner it was hard to tell if it got any lower on the turn. We panicked. I jumped out and ran to the bridge trying to ascertain the height, deciding on the spot we needed to try to turn around, all the while cars were squeezing by in both directions. There was no way we could turn in this narrow street. We were causing chaos. A woman came out of her house and helped direct traffic while I ran around like a headless chicken and Mr Love sat behind the wheel waiting for an epiphany. One helpful motorist told us there were no campsites on this road. Thanks mate. Finally, a small delivery truck came down the lane and beeped at us indicating that if he could fit under then we could. I quickly did a visual measurement and agreed he was at least the same height as us and we followed him through. Needless to say, we decided not to stay at the agritourism campsite and instead went to one of the three campsites across the road from the Pompeii ruins. In hindsight it was a good thing as the location was fantastic. The next morning Andrew cooked me a brunch of scrambled eggs and smoked salmon and we wandered casually across the road and through the gates to the ancient city of Pompeii.
Visiting the ruins of Pompeii was an incredible experience and we spent most of the day exploring this surreal environment – a city caught in a moment of time long-ago. Before the devastating eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79AD Pompeii was a swanky Roman resort town where the rich and influential spent their holidays. Elegant houses and elaborate villas lined the paved streets. People were entertained in the 20,000-seat arena, socialised in the elegant forum, and relaxed in the one of the many palatial bathhouses. A large earthquake 16 years before the eruption was the only indicator that Vesuvius was going to blow. It is still an active volcano and had blown before this notorious eruption but the sunshine and beauty in this part of the world would have meant most Romans pushed the possibility to the backs of their minds. 20,000 people lived in Pompeii at the time of the eruption. What made this eruption so catastrophic was its intensity. The blast sent a plume of ashes, pumice, rock, and scorching-hot volcanic gases so high into the sky that people could see it for hundreds of kilometres. Fine-grained ash and chunks of pumice and other rocks then fell from the sky. The initial blast wasn’t fatal, and most Pompeiians had plenty of time to flee. Servants and workers were left behind and for them conditions got a whole lot worse. As more and more ash fell, it clogged the air, making it difficult to breathe. Buildings collapsed. Then, to top it all off a superfast moving surge of intensely hot poison gas and pulverized rock poured down the side of the mountain and swallowed everything and everyone in its path. By the time the Vesuvius eruption spluttered to an end the next day, Pompeii was buried under millions of tonnes of volcanic ash. About 2,000 people were killed. Some residents drifted back to town in search of lost relatives or belongings, but there was not much left to find. Pompeii, along with the smaller neighbouring towns of Stabiae and Herculaneum, was abandoned for centuries.
It wasn’t until 1748 that Pompeii was rediscovered, when a group of explorers looking for ancient artefacts arrived in Campania and began to dig. They found that the ashes had acted as a preservative and underneath all that dust, Pompeii was almost exactly as it had been 2,000 years before. Its buildings were intact. Everyday objects and household goods littered the streets. Skeletons were frozen right where they’d fallen. Plaster casts of bodies made from imprints in the ash are an eerie addition to the museum; the dog and small child particularly confronting. Archaeologists even uncovered jars of preserved fruit, nuts and loaves of bread, which are on display, and apart from being blackened look exactly as they would have the day of the eruption. The scale of the city is what hit us. It is huge and obviously well planned. Walking along the remarkably wide cobbled streets we imagined the city as it was 2,000 years before; colourful shops brimming with exotic wares and traders bargaining loudly, wealthy merchants stepping out of elegant townhouses, wine makers pouring their treasured liquid into beautifully decorated amphoras, philosophers arguing on the steps of the forum, and poets reciting their works to gatherings of intelligentsia and noblemen. It really was a fascinating day.
The next morning, we left the campervan in Pompeii and took the train to Sorrento for a two-day break on the Amalfi Coast. You aren’t permitted to drive campervans along the Amalfi Coast during daylight and having done the research you’d be mad to drive there full-stop. The Amalfi Coast is a famous summer holiday destination and despite spring continuing to be elusive and the weather not looking great we were determined to visit this much talked about destination. Leaving the van behind was the only option.
For me, this part of Italy conjures up images of retro glamour; a baby-blue Alpha Romeo Spider whizzing along narrow coastal roads, top down, a young Sophia Loren behind the wheel, oversized glasses shielding her from the bright Mediterranean sun and her lemon chiffon scarf streaming out behind. I had no expectations that I’d see my made-in-the-movies ideal, but we did see a few sports cars and the towns are straight out of a film set.
Our first stop was Sorrento, a town that has been popular with holidaymakers for centuries – since the days of the Grand Tour. We spent a couple of hours there before heading further around the coast. Sorrento sits on cliffs rising dramatically above the Mediterranean. From the Villa Comunale Park there are lovely views down the coast and to Mount Vesuvius sitting across the bay. It is picturesque and elegant, albeit a bit tired, and was surprisingly busy with tourists, many on organised tours. Tourism is obviously vital to the economy of this area and the narrow streets of Sorrento’s historic centre are lined with tourist shops selling souvenirs, Italian delicacies, and everything lemon. This is lemon country and if it can’t be made lemon flavoured or lemon scented it’s not worth making.
We then caught the bus and headed off to Positano on the other side of the peninsula at the start of the Amalfi Coast road. This little town has been used in many films and it’s easy to see why. Colourful buildings cascade down steep hills towards the small pebble beach where the church of Santa Maria Assunta with its tiled dome sits quietly amongst busy restaurants and bars. The bus dropped us at the top of the hill and we made our way down through the cute lanes and stairways lined with pricey boutiques and galleries.
There’s a rustic feel to this town. Being still months away from the high season there was a lot activity underway to get the town ship-shape for summer; shop interiors were being renovated and hotels painted. Nevertheless, many more buildings are in need of care, with wisteria vines crumbling walls and the sea air rusting exposed railings.
After a lunch of capricciosa pizza by the sea we climbed back up the hill to catch the bus to Amalfi. Amalfi is only 16km along the coast, but the road is incredibly narrow and winding, and the journey took 45 minutes. Apparently in summer that trip can take more than twice as long. We were in awe of our bus driver. He drove that bus like it was a fiat bambina, not flinching when we encountered cars on hairpin bends or met other buses in single-lane underpasses. Calm and patient, he got on with the job.
The town of Amalfi is one of the most historic towns along the Amalfi Coast, having had a glorious history as a maritime republic whose status joined the ranks of coastal powerhouses like Pisa, Venice and Genoa. It was a trade bridge between the Byzantine and western worlds for centuries. It’s hard to imagine it being so influential as our first impression was of a sleepy, slightly shabby, seaside village. However, that changed when we walked through the city gate and into Piazza Duomo where the Amalfi Cathedral looms impressively over the square, sitting at the top of a flight of steep, wide steps. The façade of black and white stripes and arabesque arches is very dramatic, and we were taken aback by its magnificence and size, almost out of place in its surrounds. I couldn’t resist seeing inside and left Mr Love sitting on the steps people watching. Built in the 1200s the cathedral is dedicated to Saint Andrew. It has been remodelled several times, adding Romanesque, Byzantine, Gothic, and Baroque elements. To reach the cathedral you first walk through the original 9th century Basilica, which is quite austere, then down some steps to the ornately decorated and surprisingly opulent crypt, before ascending into the splendid cathedral itself.
Amalfi is only small so once the cathedral was visited it didn’t take long for us to fully explore the rest of the town.
We found a donkey shop. Well, a shop full of merchandise and pottery decorated in a very funky donkey motif. Andrew’s mother has 13 donkeys and we couldn’t resist buying her something. The woman in the shop told us that donkeys have played an important part in the history of the Amalfi Coast and are still used today to lug goods up the steep hillsides. Their strength and tireless work ethic symbolises the spirit of the coast.
It was getting late and we had a B&B to check into. We caught the bus 3km back along the coast and walked the short distance to our accommodation. It was lovely. The deck on our room had sweeping views along the cliffs and across the sea. Right next door was a well-known restaurant that our host told us was worth trying. One of the oldest restaurants on the coast it has been run by the same family since 1931. We had a lovely evening and the food and service was faultless. Our gorgeous meal started with a complimentary amuse-bouche of fresh anchovies on a citrus salad and was followed by an entrée of seared squid on homegrown mashed peas served with the most delicious freshly baked potato bread. The family grow all their own produce. Andrew chose their famous spaghetti with clams, cherry tomatoes, olives and capers, for his main. They’ve been serving this dish since 1965. It was cooked in a paper bag, which was opened in front of us, steaming and aromatic. I had a sea bass fillet stewed in lemon sauce on a bed of home grown broccoli, all sweet and leafy and nothing like broccoli in the shop. The wine was recommended by their sommelier and was from across the bay, a small family vineyard that only produces a limited amount exclusively for this restaurant. It was heavenly. There was no room for desert and we asked for the bill. In typical European style a complimentary digestive was served and in typical Amalfi style it was lemoncello, distilled on the coast of course.
Our host at the B&B told us his town of 5,000 swells to 25,000 in summer and the only road in, the coast road, is packed. Boats become the main mode of transport during these months. It’s hard to comprehend how these small towns teetering on cliffs cope with such a seasonal overload.
The next morning, while waiting for the bus, we walked down a path along the cliffs to get some photos of the coast. I wanted to get a better shot so clambered over the wall and skirted along the cliff, getting scratched by agaves on the way, before finding a great vantage site only to realise a large black snake had the same idea. I don’t know who moved quicker, him or me. You forget there are snakes in Europe. It was a viper, and vipers are poisonous.
The bus ride back to Sorrento was just as hair-raising as the ride out. These drivers earn their money.
Back in Pompeii our van was as we left her. The next morning we were off to Rome.
