The next morning I woke up early in Cosenza and checked out of the hotel. When paying the room rate, the hotel charged me 15 Euro less than what they quoted me when I checked in. Things were beginning to look up. The day had cleared a little, and I could see that Cosenza was surrounded by hills, and was rather appealing. I started to think that maybe I could stay on around here a bit longer, but then the rain returned, and I knew I’d made the right choice to move on. I hadn’t looked at the time-table of trains from the station, and am a little disappointed to find out the next train to Catania was 2 hours away. Well, I guess this is what they invented books for.
The train trip is pleasant and relaxing. The first leg of the trip I sit across from an American who had a great time in Cosenza. I guess it goes to show the benefits of planning your trip instead of winging it! After changing in Paola, the new train heads south onwards to Sicily. From what I understand after crossing into Sicily, the train splits in two, half to Palermo and the other to Catania. I couldn’t find anywhere to ask, so just hopped on.
View from moving train. Trains are great in Italy, but they'd be better if they cleaned the windows.
The train ride is scenic, with most of the way the tracks being laid right along, or very near to the coast, with barely room for any development between the tracks and the beach. Inland, the land gets very hilly very quickly, and the farmland is green and lush and is very pretty. Getting closer to the crossing point at Villa San Giovanni, the ticket inspectors come around to check tickets, and advise me I’m in the wrong half of the train for my destination, and need to quickly change at the next stop otherwise I won’t get another chance. I think it wouldn’t be a proper trip of mine if I don’t get something slightly wrong along the way.
Loading the train carriages onto the ferry
After the next station they then bring the trains off the track, and load them onto a huge ferry, which is kinda interesting to see. However you’re meant to stay in your seat, and once the train is inside the ferry there’s nothing to see at all. As I’m travelling solo and reluctant to sleep in case I miss something important, I resort to reading… until the power is cut inside the carriages. So then all there is to do is look out the window at the inside of a ferry. Boredom kicks in, and let your mind wander. Say, I wonder how they perform those service checks on fire extinguishers. Do they check anything, or just give them a little kick, like the tyres on a car? The whole crossing process takes around an hour.
My enthralling view for the ferry crossing
On the other side and out of the ferry, the good views from the train resume as we head down the eastern coast. On the left are more ocean views, and on the right is the snowcapped volcano Mt. Etna. The sun is shining, and things are looking up. I quickly find a hostel which turns out to be clean and nice (and also empty), and I was very glad to be in Catania.
After the Amalfi coast, I waved goodbye to Amy and headed South towards the toe of Italy – the region called Calabria. I’d read that this was a region of rolling hills, attractive beaches, and not too much development. I was hoping for some relaxing time in hostels in scenic countryside.
My first stop was in a town of Praia a Mare, on the coast in northern Calabria. I was planning to stay in a hostel near here, but was unable to book as I hadn’t had internet access in the past few days. At least I had its phone number in a cheesy flier that I had picked up in Napoli. Without a booking, I thought I’d ride my luck and turn up in the town and find it.
Big mistake on my behalf. The town of Praia a Mare has very little except a long beach and a few shops. By luck there were two Americans at the station who offered to help. They mocked me a little over the flier (which was, unfortunately for me, warranted), and looked at me like I was an idiot when I said I had no address or reservation. Well, they were probably right. In the end they pointed me to a local travel agent and moved on.
The travel agent didn’t know the hostel either, and the phone number of the hostel I had been turned off. Awesome. It was already 4:30pm and without a place to stay I booked myself into a hotel which cost the best part of my daily budget.
The beach at Praia a Mare
That night I walked around the town of Praia a Mare, I noticed the people were much different to in Positano. They never chose to acknowledge me, and looked at me as me with suspicion, as if they thought I was about to pick their pocket. A boring evening of watching BBC followed. I told myself in the morning I’d find this hostel.
I didn’t. I was able to email the hostel, who then gave me a new phone number to call. Surprise surprise, when I called it no one answered. This is really starting to suck. I didn’t want to spend another night of nothingness in Praia a Mare, so made the executive decision to catch the train south to the bigger city of Cosenza, where at least I had guide-book info on where to stay.
I arrived in Cosenza in driving rain. The train station in Cosenza is conveniently located (for taxi drivers) way outside of town, and I wasn’t able to work out where and how to catch the bus in. So I agreed on a taxi trip to a hostel. He dropped me at a hostel with rain still falling heavily, and then showed he didn’t have change for my payment, which drove costs up higher. Cosenza was looking worse.
The hostel wasn’t open, and I couldn’t find another cheap bed and breakfast marked in the guide-book (I was looking during the afternoon break), and I was getting soaked. In the end I dragged myself into a hotel, and asked how much for a night. The clerk said ‘Ummmm…, 50 Euro’. It seemed to me he pulled that number out of the air. It was still raining and I didn’t want to go out, so I accepted it. Southern Italy wasn’t treating me well, and I was over it.
A dreary day in downtown Cosenza
I bought my dinner in the supermarket to save money, and in my hotel room made plans for tomorrow. I’d had enough of my Calabrian adventure.
NOTE: After a few more days of reflection (and rain), I realised my experiences in Calabria were my fault, and not Calabria. Turn up to any town in Winter, and there’s a good chance of rain. Factoring in that each town is small, and not geared for tourism, I didn’t have much home hope at all for a good time. Maybe Calabria is for another time, when it’s raining far less!
In our first morning in Positano we set out to walk the ‘Path of the Gods’ (Sentiero degli Dei) between Positano and the neighbouring village Priano. I’d read online that it’s best to ask for a map for this track as it can get confusing, but the tourist office didn’t have anything. He pointed us to catch the bus up to the top of the town (an area called Nocelle), to start the walk. I thought it started in Positano, but was glad I listened to his directions.
Nocelle is another town that sits on the cliffs above Positano, but is not touristy, and very relaxed and quiet. I don’t think anything happens there. We talked to an elderly couple who helped us with directions to the start of the track, they were surprised that there was even a place open to stay in Positano at the time. They enjoyed the slower pace of life, and advised with a smile that their home-grown olives tasted better than anywhere else.
Positano and the cliffs beyond
The path of the gods was the best track I’ve ever done. Around every corner you can look up at the top of the cliffs, across the coast at the small towns tittering on the edges of steep limestone walls, or indeed over the edge of the track you’re on at the water or valley below. If it’s possible, it’s too scenic. At every turn you want to stop to tak in the views, and try to capture the whole landscape in a single photo – which never is possible. We packed a lunch, and ate it on a park bench with a stunning view across Positano and the an endless stretch of cliffs beyond it.
Through an old farm along the path
As we were in the hills above Priano (the ending destination), I began to wonder why people wanted maps. The path was clearly marked, and only one way to go. Wusses, I thought. Around the next corner we then I arrived at a 4 way intersection that wasn’t marked, and I took back my comment earlier. There was no clear way of knowing where to go, so we went down the one that looked the most worn, and headed down, towards Priano.
Warning Above Priano
It seemed like a good idea, but after a while the path got less worn, and the steps down started to fill with dirt, meaning that it was more a slope that a staircase. I slipped down one, but I wasn’t hurt, only dirty. We started questioning things when the structure of an old vineyard had collapsed over the path, meaning we had to crawl / squat our way along the path. The red marks on the stones had gone, but there were at least yellow ones, which kept me going.
The path grew less and less in structure, until it was in parts a dirt track through old farmland. It was still heading down to Priano, but I could just see it ending in a 20m drop somewhere. We couldn’t face going back up again and trying a different track, so we just pushed on.
Not sure if this is the right track, but at least it lead down
Down, down, down the track and it’s steps seemed endless. The track sometimes resembled a track, but at other times disappeared to a goat trail and we even had to climb down some small drops (around a metre). I rolled my ankle a couple more times (and noted to myself I should buy hiking boots), but we could hear the traffic of Priano, and kept pushing. Eventually we made it into a back alley of Priano – clearly at the wrong way, and was relieved but impressed with ourselves to have made it back.
Drink stop along the path.
Despite the trouble at the end, I can’t highly recommend enough making the walk to anyone who goes to Positano. It certainly beats sitting on the beach.
After the trip to Capri, Amy and I headed onto Positano which is around the other side of the Sorrento peninsular. A short distance takes about 45 minutes in the bus, due to roads that are as windy as one’s you go up a mountain on. We arrive at our hostel to be welcomed by a teenager, and find again that we’re the only guests, and we’ve got our own room instead of a dorm. Not bad for two in a row, but we’re starting to miss talking to other people. The kid doesn’t have any maps, or details on what to do, and leaves us to ourselves.
Positano is amazing to look at. Like Capri, all elements of the town seem to be melded together into one set of concrete. The stairs are connected to the roads, and all houses and buildings are connected to the stairs and roads. Many houses have lemon or olive trees in their backyard, which makes it all the more picturesque. From our hostel, it was allegedly 800 steps down to the beach, but would have been about 300m away in a straight line. Needless to say we only ever did the trip down on our feet.
Evening kicking in at Positano
No self-respecting Australian would call the beach in Positano a good one. The sand is black and covered in pebbles, and there’s no surf. It’s also tiny. Granted the view is great, but I started to wonder what people do here in the summer. Most of our time was spent walking the trails, which I’m writing my next post on.
One thing that surprised me is that the towns folk seem to be very friendly. It’s all too common that someone will see their friend when driving, and stop to chat with them while blocking road traffic. Only some car horns will move them on. The local bus is almost like the town meeting place, with each new local passenger gret through the bus, and quickly drawn into a conversation.
We also spent some time in the also picturesque town of Amalfi, another town along the coast. Getting there by public bus, I couldn’t help to think that the Amalfi Coast bus drivers must be among the best in the world. The roads are narrow, windy, and most of the time along cliffs. These guys are constantly throwing the bus left and right around the constant corners, honking the horn to alert oncoming traffic, stopping to reverse if there’s not enough room, all the while carrying on a conversation with a guy two seats behind him.
2 days was enough in Positano, during the day if you like walking it’s great, but there’s nothing else to do. Indeed, I went to bed before 10pm two nights in the row, which must be the first time I’d done so since I was 12.
Moving out of the major centres, into the major tourist areas. Sorrento was our first stop via the Circumvesuviana. This train ride is a pretty short in distance, but with stations seemingly to be 500m apart, it takes about 1 1/2 hours on a scruffy train. Sorrento is said to be full of greying package tourists and I was warned not to stay here by a friend, but booked a night anyway. I was glad I did.
The town scrubs up very well. Elegant and clean streets, great views of the Bay of Naples, impressive looking houses, it certainly is an appealing place. We booked into our stay at the Ulisse Deluxe Hostel, to find we were the only dorm visitors, and therefore were being put in a private room with en suite. One benefit of visiting in March. Hostel was helpful and clean.
View of Sorrento port and beyond
We decided to slightly spoil ourselves over the evening. In truth, there didn’t seem to be much else to do. After some great coffee, good pizza and the obligatory limoncello we stopped off for a gelati. The gelati joint was impressive, with masses of flavours and the walls covered with photo’s of famous customers, and the nice Italian touch of bikini girls getting covered in chocolate. My favourite was a picture of the Napoli football team coach, with comment written under it from the staff. The comments contained the words ‘Napoli’ and ’scudetto’, so I assumed that he made the big (empty) promise here to bring the scudetto to Napoli. Good luck!
The next morning we catch the ferry over to Capri. Upon arrival you think about how much of a dump this place is, with scrubby buildings lining the shore. But you can’t judge a city by its port / train station – they’re always the worst spots. Once out of the area, Capri town is very appealing and compact, with narrow paths leading around the town. The town has little buggies that are skinnier than a forklift that they use as taxi’s, or to move construction materials around (or old ladies sitting on school chairs).
A path out of Capri town, under the watchful eye of a local.
Taking some of the walking paths out of the centre of the town (to Villa Jovis, the Arco Naturale, and to the Gardens of Agustus), the views along each are really impressive and great ways to spend your time. The best was to the Arco Naturale, and then down the minor path behind it. The path has big climbs up and down, but also amazing cliff views and has a more rugged feel than the other paths. You can also check out the Villa Malaparte, which was featured in some art-house French film. Then you can tell you’re friends you saw the same house, and they may be impressed that you’ve seen this French film. But actually, you’ve just heard about it from a friend, and you’ve no real knowledge about the house, or the film. That’s what I’m doing.
The Villa Malaparte. Nice look and location, but needs some TLC.
One things that gets me about Capri (and also happens in other places), is people don’t clean up after their dogs. So there’s little land mines peppering the paths everywhere. So you’ve gotta be careful when admiring a view while walking, less you want to be cleaning your shoes with a stick. It seems the general idea is leave them there, then let the good residents and tourists walk it into the path til it’s gone. Then repeat the next day.
Oh, and the blue grotto was closed due to high tides, so missed out on that one.
Taking it in from the Gardens of Agustus
Capri is a great day trip and if you don’t mind walking around and enjoying views, it’s a great place to do it. We were lucky that we got a clear day in March, so it wasn’t too busy but still had the great views.
