Southern Charms

There are certain deal-breakers in travelling; the places you'll kick yourself for not seeing or experiencing. For me, Pompeii was one of those from my last long stint in Europe - unfinished business, if you will. Which is why after breakfast in our hotel's lemon grove courtyard, I caught the train to Pompeii while Wendy opted for the bus to Amalfi.

Pompeii didn't disappoint.  The sun was blazingly hot, which helped, as did having downloaded a podcast tour which helped me avoid crowds in all the standard places.  Getting lost in these incredible ruins definitely had its charms.  And somehow I managed to miss the collapse of part of the gladiator complex -  I guess that's the hazard of restoring 2000 year old buildings that were covered in lava...

Stepping stones for when the streets were being cleaned, or during rainfall.
They were standardized so that chariots could pass through them.

The court of Pompeii

The dogs of Pompeii on the rampage

Plaster form of a victim of the eruption

Inside the baths

Ancient fast food stand - the holes held heated pots

The bakery

Stepping stone and ancient chariot tracks

Inside the tavern

The menu du jour at the brothel

The Greek Theatre - complete with Irish high school group

The Gladiator Training Grounds before the collapse later that day

Views of Mt. Vesuvius from the Greek Theatre

Mid-afternoon found me back wandering the narrow streets of Sorrento, more than a little hungry, when I stumbled upon Inn Bufalito.  The menu looked simple, local and fresh, with great design.  Not to mention a very charming chef and manager who flashed his big brown eyes at me and sealed the deal.

Fresh buffalo mozzarella

Traditional local homemade pasta with buffalo ragu and fresh ricotta

 

Thus began the most enjoyable solo meal of my time in Italy.  Franco Coppola knows the provenance of every item on his menu and has a story to tell about each of his producers.  We talked food, wine, regional variations, travel, life - all the while being tantalized by beautiful dishes.  I left satiated, with an open offer to dinner on future visits, and an invitation to spend Christmas break exploring Sicily in a camper van meeting artisanal food and wine producers.  But maybe more importantly for me right now, feeling like a beautiful, intelligent, valued woman in a way that had no uncomfortable or inauthentic undertones. 

 
Leaving Sorrento to meet the class on stage in Umbria the next morning was just a little difficult.  I'm sure the extra weight of the local Limoncello bottles were the cause . . .

The old mill in Sorrento