not the coast

Okay, so we left the hotel in Rome at 10:30 this morning.  It is now 3:24 pm and we still haven't made it to our new location in Amalfi.  YES!  We ARE lost once again.  We did put our destination into the "gps", butit took us 90 minutes in the wrong direction.  Ah va Napola!  Oh wait!  That's the city the "gps" took us toward.  We really needed to va Salerno.  During our "lost time" we traveled on a tol road.  Taking the toll ticket was easy (as it usually is), but paying the toll fee is something quite different when you can't read Italian, can't communicate with the person on the other end of the intercom, and can't figure out how to work the ticket machine (as your 3 passengers are all yelling different things at you).  Poor Tom (who did all the driving, and did it very well).  When he did figure out the machine, the charge was 89.70 euros!  What the hell ws that all about?  We didn't drive through the entire country!  As we later found out, Michael and Marisa paid considerably less for the same distance.  When I get home I will need to dispute the charge on my credit card.  Now, let's get back to our travels.

Some of our wrong turns (due to the EVIL "GPS" from hell) brought us thourhg streets so narrow there was no where for a "U" turn.  Some of our wrong turns brought us to a face off with a huge farm truck filled with hay (Tom gaveit the right of way; it was the first Italian driver to wave in thanks), and some of the wrong turns would have had us taking a left turn off a cliff.  Some of the wrong turns makde me think of I LOVE LUCY in Italy.  Let's move on...

After the toll surprise, we were able to stop at a rest area that had a wifi hotspot so we contacted Marisa and MIchael who had arrived a the hotel around 2:00. They gave us a couple of street names to plug into the "gps".  Tom did that and we headed back onto the highway.  Two or three of "gps" directions later I knew we weren't doing well, so we headed back to the highway.  Now...well, we are still lost, trying to find someone who can head us in the right direction.  Tom and I are sitting this one out.  We put Steve and Anne on the mission (an almost deaf man and stressed out woman, but we can't get anymore lost than we are).  As we went upon our way with our new directions we were so "slap happy" that we began to sing "There's a hole in the bottom of the sea" (4 very tired sixty-somethings managing our frustrations the best way we could).  If we were on water, we'd sing the them from Gilligan's Island.  Finally, after 6.5 hours (3 and a half more than it should have taken us), and a total of 93.70 euro in toll fees, we arrived at Villa Rizzo.  Thank God, it is a lovely place surrounded by hazelnut, olie, and orange groves. Michael and Marisa were there to greet us and treatus to drinks around the pool.  Ahhhhhh!  We had time to unwind with friends then relax in our rooms before our 9:00 dinner with entertainment (jazz).  Dinner and jazz that I must say were wonderful and a great way to engage in the Italian culture (Villa Rizzo was not a typical tourist destination but rather a hotel and spa destination for Italians).

Although I felt badly for Tom (whose driving was above reproach), I personally thought this was a pretty funny adventure.  At one point I thought we would need to find a police station where we could ask for an escort to our hotel.  I mean it when I say "gps" is evil.  Just as an example, as we finally neared our destination, it told us to take a right when the VILLA RIZZO sign pointed to the left.  Let's see if it changes it's evil ways tomorrow.

I am SOOOOO happy to be here in Italy!

Another glorious day.  The sun is shining and the temperature is just right.  We all met for breakfast at 8:00 so we could hed to Ravello.  Tom successfully followoed Michael until we got to a toll. Immediately after going through the toll the highway split in 3 diretions.  You would think that as Tom was paying the tol, the rest of us would be watching the direction in which Michael drove, but we did not (I think we were all waiting for another toll fiasco).  We had no idea which way ot go so it was a random choice.  We did end up seeing signs for Ravello and we followed them through towns with roads as narrow as alley ways.  There was on in particular that was so narrow the beepers on both sides of the car were going off until we got thourh onto a wider street.  We started the long and twisty climb to Ravello.  Hairpin turns on the narrow road which edged a cliff did not deter divers and motorcyclists from passing us and each other.  I was nauseous from the constant turning and was very happy when we made it to the top and the beautiful town.  As we got closer to the town we noticed the cars were all parked along he side wall of the town so we took the first available spot at the front of what seemed an endless row of cars all squished in.  Just as we were getting out of the car another car pulled slong side ofus.  It was Michael and Marisa!  We all laughed as they parked in front of us.  We then took in the beauty of Ravello.  We first had some light fare at a cafe, then we alternated taking pictures and shopping.  At the end of the shopping experience Anne mentioned that she wanted ice coffee.  Imagine our surprise when Steve noticed a sign for ice coffee at one of the cafes.  I had not been drinking coffee (I can't acquire a tasts for Italy's Americano coffee), but I was intrigued and wanted to taste the ice coffee myself.  Steve went in to order me one.  When he came out, I could only laugh.  I styrofoam cup was about 4 ounces with ice and the equivalent of 2 to 3 mouthfuls of coffee.  However, it was good and did hit the spot.
By that time we met up with Michael and Marisa and the six of us walked back to the road where the cars were parked.  Michael and Marisa walk at a faster pace so they were up ahead of us.  Steve and I were next, followed by Tom and Anne.  As we got closer we notieced the cars weren't there where we had parked them.  We were all hoping that perhaps we were all experiencing the same senior moment at the same time.  Perhaps the cars were parked further back on the road.  However, even further along our cars were not there.  We had to admit that they were most likely towed.  Although there were no signs posted that stated NO PARKING in Italian or any other language, being towed was a lot easier to thik about than the cars being stolen.  So, as the 3 men headed very quickly toward the police station (there was a sign for that), the 3 wives sat on a bench under a tree looking out at the Amalfi bay and wondering aloud how much this escapade was going to cost. 
After what seemed an eternity where we joked about the men being put in jail, the towing company being closed for the night, and having to find lodging for the night, the husbands and the cars pulled up behind us and tooted for us to jump in.  We were all lucky that the police took pity on the 3 senior Americanos who didn't have their passports with them (one of whom didn't have any ID on him).  We were all very lucky that the 3 amigos (amici in Italian) had cash on them since it was after hours and too late to use a credit card.  The cost of this escapade totaled 300 euro (150 for each of the cars), but the experience was PRICELESS.  This was another comedy of errors.  I could sarcastically refer to the men as "the three wise men", but that would be too harsh; funny, but harsh.
Upon arriving back at Villa Rizzo we all headed to our rooms to rest.  Tom and Anne decided to stay put and eat dinner on their patio (they had gone shopping earlier).  Michael and Marisa and Steve and I decided to go out for dinner later.  When that time came, Marisa found a restaurant very close by (actually just around the corner and up a long driveway in an old farmhouse).  Sale e Pepe was just what we needed to unwind and relax.  http://www.ristorantesaleepepe.it/gallery_4c.html

I haven't been able to rotate this correctly, but until I can, I will post it as is. This is me with my second and third cousins. The elderly man in the middle is my grandfather's nephew - Baldasaro II. He would be my mother's first cousin.

It is Sunday, our next to last day in Italy, and at breakfast we discussed our plans.  Marisa and Michael will be going to drive to Padula and Sasso di Castalda to see their ancestral birth places.  Although it had not been part of my original plans for this trip, the thought of seeing my grandfather's birth place has nagged at me for the last 24 hours. 
Marisa and Michael invited Steve and me to go with them.  We could combine visits to all 3 places; Padula, Sasso di Castalda, and Tricarico.  Tom, who was the designated driver of the Monk/Round car said that after he and Anne attended church he would drive me to Tricarico.  So Michael and Marisa departed, Anne and Tom went off to church, and I went down to the office to ask for directions to Tricarico (which were printed out in Itaiian). 
Reading Italian (at least simple directions) is a lot easier for me than speaking the limited Italian I know.  It wouldn't be long before my inability to converse in the Italian language would be both frustrating and laughable. 
When Tom and Anne returned from church we headed east toward Tricarico.  Believe it or not, we didn't get lost at all.  To make it even better there was hardly any traffic on the highway during the 90 minute drive.  (The path to Tricarico was way too smooth - we weren't accustomed to smooth sailing with no wrong turns taking us out of our way by hours.)
All I wanted was to see the place where my grandfather, Luigi Campisani, was born.  Just to give you some background...my grandfather left Tricarico with his brother, Baldasaro.  The family had doubted my grandfather would be allowed in America due to the fact that he had one blue eye and one brown eye.  Back then, immigrants were turned away for lots of reasons, including any perceived health issues.  As it turned out, my grandfather was allowed in, but his brother, Baldasaro was turned away and had to return to Italy alone.  I don't know if they ever spoke again; I don't think they did.  I also suspect that Baldasaro may have been resentful, but that is not anything that was ever confirmed.
The mountainous region was beautiful and sparely populated.  I could ony imagine how isolated and limiting it had been when my grandfather and his brother left it to emigrate to America. The road up to his mountain top town was windy and steep, but not as narrow as the roads to Ravello.  Plus, our's was the only car.  I couldn't imagine living in this town before reliable cars were availabe (or any cars for that matter). 
When we got to the Tricarico sign I got out of the car to take a picture. When I got back in, I checked my grandfather's birth certificate once more; I had to reassure myself that we were in the right place.
We drove through a main street into the town square and parked the car.  There was a little market that was closed and a town plaza/park with a fountain.  No one was in sight and it was very, very quiet.  You could hear voices and children playing behind the closed doors of the houses/apartments, but it was eerily still.  We (Steve, myself, Tom and Anne) headed toward the church we had seen thinking that perhaps the local priest could confirm that my grandfather's family had resided there.  We walked down a narrow side street/alley and around a corner up the hill toward the church.  We came upon one solitary older man walking toward us.  At first I was going to say hello and walk by him.  As I mentioned, my Italian is very limited and I was uncomfortable speaking.  However, something made me approach this man.  All I said was "Campisani familia.  Mi nonno; Luigi Campisani".  He turned around (heading back toward where he had come) and motioned for me to follow him.  He said "fratello".  That means brother.  My first and only thought was that he was leading the way to his brother - perhaps the local priest.  Steve and I kept up with him afraid to let him out of our sight.  He took us further up the hill/alley and down a very steep flight of stairs that were to our left.  At the bottom of the stairs he disappeard into a house/apartment.  A woman came out and the man told her we were Luigi Camisani's family.  She welcomed us inside where there was a middle aged man and an older teenage boy.  The original man (from the street/alley) introduced us.  The middle aged man got a picture off a shelf and showed it to me.  IT WAS MY GRANDFATHER'S BROTHER, BALDASARO AND MY GRANDFATHER'S MOTHER.  All I could do was burst out crying.  I sat down and just sobbed.  I can not say that I have spent my life living for this moment, but the feeling of coming full circle for my grandfather and family was just overwhelming.  This random encounter with the one lone person on the street led me directly to my grandfather's family!  When he said "fratello" he meant my grandfather's brother - not his.   He knew from the very beginning - from when I said my grandfather was Luigi Campisani - and he took me directly there.  Come to find out, he was somehow related as well (if I understood correctly he was related through marriage). 
During the time inside, I tried to communicate as best as I could, but instead of using the limited Italian I knew, French words and Spanish words were coming out of my mouth.  The Campisani family members knew no English as all, so it was frustrating, laughable, but also delightful, as we connected.  Steve took a couple of short videos and some photos.  We had espresso and were  asked to "manggia", but we declined that offer.  I think, at that point, they understood my words "mi amici" and my gesturing of driving a car and realized that we had to go.  We hugged and kissed and said good-bye.  The same kind "stranger" who escorted Steve and me to my family, took us back up the stairs and into the street/alley.  He bade us a heartfelt "arrivederci" (until we meet again).  Then Steve and I went went in pursuit of Tom and Anne who explored the town while we were with my family.
We made our way back into the center of town and as we were looking around a man who was in a local cafe came across the street and motioned to us.  He said "piazza".  He must have seen the direction in which Tom and Anne had ventured and he was sending us there.  Although we didn't see them, the locals saw the four tourists who most likely stuck out like sore thumbs and they watched over us so we wouldn't lose our way.
The drive back to Villa Rizzo was once again uneventful.  There were no wrong turns today.  Call it what you will...Divine intervention, kizmet, pure luck, I really don't care what term you use to label it.  This was an amazing and unforgettable experience.

This is just a small part of the appetizer we had.

Today is our last day in Italy.  In 24 hours we will be returning to the U.S.  We will do our best to fill this day with more adventures.  Last night at dinner we started the planning. 
This morning Tom and Anne were the first to rise and leave for their own well deserved trek to the coast.  They wanted to take in Positano as well as the rest of the coastline.  We wish them a day with no wrong turns; a day filled with ease of travel as they enjoy the beauty of the area.
Steve and I will be going with Michael and Marisa to a Water Buffalo farm where fresh mozzarella is produced.
Upon our arrival at the Vannulo farm location, Michael located the office and our guide, Rosaria, began our one hour tour.  She first brought us to see the 300 head of water buffalo who freely roamed their barn (for lack of a better word). 
The water buffalo have free range and are pampered with massages and cool water misting over them.  The water buffalo make their own choices here.  As we stood there we obseved their behaviors and the way in which they sauntered over for a cool and refreshing mist or how they slowly got into a line to patiently wait for their turns at the massage apparatus (similar to the revolving brush in a car wash).  These water buffalo are also in charge of their own milking.  There are mechanized milking machines set up so that when the buffalo are uncomfortable and feel the need for milking, they can walk and hook up to the machine by themselves.  They do these two or three times daily. 
After touring the barn, we were brought to the mozzarella making window where we watched three men pulling and shaping balls of fresh mozzarella by hand.  They don't even wear gloves so that they have a better feel of the mozzarella.  One of them formed the mozzarella balls (in various sizes) in a quick and effortless way and dropped them into the tank of mozzarella water they were standing over.  Rosario gave us the names for the various size mozzarella balls and told us about keeping them fresh (outside a refreigerator for up to 3 days).  All of the mozzarella made here is for domestic use.
The next step on the farm (which was not rural but rather on the edge of the city) was the leather goods shop.  When the water buffalo are about 15 years old they are sent to slaughter and Vannula takes back their hides.  The farm hires designers (including one from Dolce and Gabbana) to design belts, purses, wallets, and baskets.  The goods are then sold on the premises.  There were beautiful pieces available for purchase.
Rosaria then took us to a covered patio where we were treated to fresh mozzarella.  It was nothing like the mozzarella we get in our stores here.  The difference was amazing - it was so good!
Finally, our tour was over and Rosaria left us to escort another group.  We made our way into the farm's gelato and yogurt shop.  We treated ourselves to scrumptious gelato that was exceptionally creamy.  Here is a link that has some photos and information...http://www.delaval.com.au/en/-/Meet-our-customers/Vannulo-Farm/

It was time to leave Vannulo.  Marisa found directions to Paestum which would be our last sightseeing stop.  Paestum is just a short distance from Vannulo.  It is the location of Greek ruins.  It was a very hot and sunny day, but worth the trip.  The temples were beautiful.  It was not necessarily a place we would have gone out of our way for, but it was quite informative.  http://www.paestum.org.uk/

After Paestum, Marisa and I were on a mission to find a gold store.  We wanted to buy Italian gold earrings.  It was more difficult than you would think.  Michael drove us all to Salerno where he found a parking space down near the water.  The four of us hiked up the hill into the shopping area looking for a jeweler that Marisa had found online.  After walking around for a bit, Michael found it.  It was closed for the afternoon siesta and wouldn't reopen for another two hours.  We decided to find something else.  We did end up finding a jeweler that was open and sold gold.  We spent about an hour in the store as we decided upon the items to buy.  Michael and Steve were very patient as they sat waiting for us outside the store.  They even got approached by a local panhandler who struck up a conversation with them as best he could.  They originally thought he was just an older man looking for conversation with tourists, but at the end of their talk he took a cup out of his pocket and held it up to them.  Michael put some Euro in the cup.
After purchasing our earrings, we rounded up the guys and headed down toward the water in search of a nice cold beer.  We found a cafe with air condition and collected our thoughts and energy as we ended our excursion.
When we arrived back at Villa Rizzo, Tom and Anne were already there.  They told us what a wonderful day they had along the coast and that the GPS was on its best behavior (giving them correct directions along their way).  We all went to our rooms for a short rest with plans to meet (on our patio) at 7:30 to partake of our last 3 bottles of Casa di Baal wine before heading out for our last dinner in Italy.
Sale e Pepe was closed on Monday, but our waitress there gave us the name and location of another farm restaurant in close proximity to the Villa.  A Casa Mia was in another beautiful location.  There was only one other group of patrons when we got there.  We took a table outside and placed our orders.  As we were talking and tasting and drinking our way through this last meal, the restaurant was filling up with locals.  Once again we saw that the Italians begin their meals later in the evening with energy we Americans don't have as well as a relaxed enjoyment of the moment.  It was a perfect night and a perfect location for 6 Americans to end their Italian adventure.